


Deconstruction

by Sysnix



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Addiction, Amputation, Animal Death, Background Relationships, Dark, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mind Manipulation, Mind Rape, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:22:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 38,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3371099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sysnix/pseuds/Sysnix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ghost of Glory and Buffy's death in "The Gift" leave a long shadow over the gang. Will her return bring back the sun or a never-ending night? What happens when all they've built comes falling down around them? Does that help or hurt?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are no serious ships in this. Even the canon ships don't take much if any time. This isn't about ships.

October 2, 2001

"Another?" the bartender asked.

Xander nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

The Bronze wasn't the same without Buffy, so Xander came here because they didn't card. It was a dive off the corner of Main and Barrow, home to a jukebox, darts, a broken pool table, but most importantly, alcohol. Blessed oblivion, where he could forget how Buffy was trapped in a hell dimension.

The bartender poured, Xander downed it, took a look around at the blurry and tilting bar, and fell off the stool. Everything churned in his stomach as he crawled to the bathroom, making it just in time to puke in the shit-stained toilet. Even with an empty stomach, he continued to heave until he passed out.

* * *

Willow walked into Hannigan's and gave the bartender a wan smile. "Thanks for calling, Derek. Did he make it to the bathroom?"

"Yeah, Will, on all fours. I'd have cut him off earlier, but he never looks drunk until it BAM hits him," Derek said, washing a glass.

"Yeah. I'm just glad this won't be a problem much longer." Willow patted the bar and made her way back to the men's restroom where Xander lay between the toilet and the wall. A noxious odor permeated the air, like five day old sun-baked puke and refuse, but Willow was familiar with it by now. This had been happening since Buffy died.

As she flushed the toilet, Willow wondered if she should use magic to carry him out since the noise of the commode didn't make an eyelash flutter. She hated seeing him this way. With his parents’ alcohol problem, this was not a good road for Xander. But soon he there’d be no reason for him to drink. Buffy’s return should get him back to normal.

She had learned her lesson on using magic to make him sober. His anger that first night had scared her. The glass had missed hitting her face by an inch before shattering on the wall. It’d been the hard way ever since. Anya refused to come get him anymore, claiming too much vomit on her clothes, but Willow suspected that it hurt her to see him this way.

She shook him and shouted, "Xander!" but a wiggle of his pinky finger discouraged her. Time to pull out the big guns. Willow walked back out to the bar and told Derek, "Give me a pitcher."

Derek nodded and did as she asked. "You'll have to hurry. The cops see you leaving past close..."

"I know." She took the pitcher back to the bathroom and dumped the ice and water on Xander's head, shocking him awake, but not sober.

"Wha?" Xander shot up.

"Hey there. It's time to go home," Willow said, pushing his wet hair back. "Tomorrow's the big day."

"Ayn?" Xander asked, surprised that his fiancee was here.

"No. It's Willow." She pulled him up by his arm.

"Oh, hey, whoa." He stood up but toppled forward and just caught himself before doing a face-plant.

"Let's try walking," she said, as she put his arm around her shoulders.

He put most of his weight on her, they stumbled out of the bar and got him to his car. At least he didn't have to work tomorrow. There was not getting him to his apartment tonight. His back would be knots the next day, but his bed was the backseat of his Toyota.

* * *

When Willow got home, she saw that Spike had fallen asleep on the couch again.

She was just about to pass him and go upstairs to bed, when he said, "You shouldn't keep picking up after him you know."

It was time to tell Spike. She had kept it from him when she hadn’t known if they could get the supplies they needed. With the way he cared for Dawn and helped patrol, he deserved to know. "It won't be a problem after tomorrow."

"And what miracle happens tomorrow that will cure Harris of his perpetual buzz?" Spike asked, thinking she had found some mystical hoodoo that wouldn’t work.

"We're bringing Buffy back."

Spike gaped at her for a moment before collecting himself and nodding. "When were you going to tell me?"

"We got the last ingredient today. I didn't want to tell you before that in case we didn't. I'm not telling Dawn in case something goes wrong. And we can't tell Giles because he'd try to stop us. This is dangerous magic and he--"

"I get it. No need to explain. I want to be there."

"We’ll be setting out from the Magic Box as soon as it closes tomorrow night. Giles can babysit Dawn." Willow wanted to wrap the conversation up when Spike surprised her.

"So you have shovels and everything at the Magic Box?"

Shovels? Then it hit her: they needed to dig up Buffy's grave. "Look, I’ve gone over everything, okay? The shovels were the only oversight. We'll get them tomorrow during Anya's shift."

“You’d better be sure, Red. You botch this spell and things’ll get messy. And then you’ll have an unhappy Big Bad on your hands.”

A crash at the door signaled the Buffy Bot's arrival. "Willow. I need service. I think my feet broke."

Spike pulled the Bot inside. "You daft bint."

* * *

The next day was agony. Willow fretted over the spell, re-checking everything; paranoid she’d overlooked something. Time got slower with every passing second.

They headed out early to dig up the grave. Willow found that it was easier said than done. Other than Spike, who worked non-stop, the rest of them had to take turns digging. Midnight hovered, and they hadn’t gotten Buffy out of her grave. The temptation to use magical energy on excavating the coffin, niggled at Willow’s fingertips. Relief flooded her when Spike hit something solid and wood sounding.

It was time to do this. Things had to improve with Buffy back, right? With her rotting corpse lying in the grass, everyone saw her recompose from the ritual. Buffy gasped, breathing again for the first time in four months, just as Willow passed out from exhaustion.

With a sigh, Buffy turned onto her side and snored. Xander, Anya, and Tara watched her in awe. "She's really back," Xander said as he knelt next to her. He stroked her hair. Being able to touch her made her resurrection real rather than the dream he'd been having for months. "We need to get her home." He scooped her off the ground.

"Giles needs to see her," Anya said.

"Buffy's his daughter for all intents and purposes. We need to get her to him," Tara said.

Spike couldn't bring himself to speak. But he knew Buffy would want her best friend taken care of, so he picked up Willow and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

* * *

As soon as they got to the edge of town, they knew something was wrong. The scent of smoke had gotten stronger, and now they had another crisis on their hands. Burnt out cars, looted stores, and screaming people greeted them at every turn. Demons on motorcycles had taken over the town in less than two hours. This forced the group to hole up at the Magic Box.

Xander lay Buffy on the couch in the store proper while Spike settled Willow onto the couch in the training room. Spike wanted nothing but to check on Buffy, sit with her until she woke up, yet he felt weird being around the others. He sat on the floor, back against the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, and talked to the unconscious witch.

"Hell of a night, eh? Raising the dead, burning town, puking up snakes, and some people just sleep. Wonder how old Rupes is dealing with it. Oh bugger, someone needs to go rescue him and Dawn."

When he joined the rest of the group in the main shop, Spike found he wasn't the only one who had had that idea. Given his vampire stamina, he got volunteered for the rescue mission.

It took half an hour for Spike to get to the Summers' house. While not on fire, it'd still been thrashed. Most of the windows broken, the front door missing, a thieving hurricane had killed the damn place. The smell of blood guided him to a heap of Giles. Spike, knowing wounds, could tell that Giles's leg was a goner. He had to apply a tourniquet above the knee while paying attention to the sounds of the house in search of Dawn.

After a couple false starts, Spike found Dawn hiding under the kitchen sink, folded in on herself. "Hey Li’l Bit, we need to get out of here, yeah?"

Dawn flew out from her hiding spot and clung to Spike with shaking limbs and gasping sobs.

The shit news was that the Magic Box was nowhere near the hospital. The worse news was that there was a cavalcade of demons between the Summers' house and saving Giles. Dawn blathered on, and he would've listened to her, but this crisis left no such luxury. Finding transportation was the most important thing and coddling a scared teenager fell low on the list of priorities.

They located an intact car a block and a half away, a Mini Cooper whose size helped them navigate half-blocked streets and alleyways. Spike tended to Giles's wounds, not just his leg, but the other wounds. Dawn used skills she'd picked up over the summer stealing cars to get them to the hospital. If Dawn had something useful to do it shut her up.

The ER's chaos was no competition for his Niblett's temper tantrums, getting Giles the medical attention he needed.

"Where the fuck were you?" Her voice carrying over the screaming disaster victims as she shoved him and pounded on his chest. "Giles better be okay, or I'll set fire to you in your sleep! You piece of shit!"

He waited until she finished her tirade and then told her Giles would lose his leg and his other injuries were scarring. While he knew he explained this, he never remembered the words or tone he used. What he remembered were her devastated tears.

Dawn's life had been crap, and Spike felt terrible for her but he needed sleep before he could pay attention. The last twenty-four had drained him more than he thought possible in such a short span of time. His ass dragged to the point of leaving the decisions in the hands of a criminally inclined teenager. So when her sobs subsided to hiccups, he hit her with: "So should we stay here with Giles, or meet up with the group?"

Her attack this time came as busting his knee out with a kick that’d take out a Fayrl. It'd take Spike at least a week to heal. He needed to steal a brace and continue taking care of the current crisis. "Wanna put your kleptomania to work and get me a brace?"

A grunt and an eye roll told him he was on his own. So he slid to the floor and scooted toward the supply closet when the ER waiting room filled with demons. With an eye roll and a grunt of his own, Spike gestured for Dawn to hide while he did what he could about the latest threat of the evening. Using vampire speed, he smashed a chair and used a length of wood as a makeshift brace, tying it to his leg with strips torn from his shirt. Another piece of broken chair served as a weapon -- not the most effective he’d ever wielded, but better than nothing. The humans scattered like cockroaches when a light went on. It worked to his advantage, allowing him to fight the demons with the efficiency he’d once used to dispatch his victims. After taking out four demons on his own, a truth hit him so hard it left him stunned long enough for a Hellion to render him unconscious.

* * *

Between Xander, Anya, and Tara, no decision had got made on what to do next. For the last two hours they had argued with punctuations of long silent periods. They were in the middle of one of the latter when Anya noticed that Buffy's eyes were open. This left even Anya without words and she kept hitting Xander in the shoulder and pointing at Buffy.

Up to now, Buffy hadn't moved, so no one had noticed that she wept. While tears and snot ran across her face, she made no sound, not even a sniffle. The tears sent everyone into a panic. Xander, while trying to be gentle, bordered on hysteria as he pleaded with her to be okay. Behind him, Tara wrung her hands and made pathetic high-pitched noises in her throat. Anya researched the spell they'd used to resurrect her, hoping to find something they could fix.

But before they made any headway, the front windows of the Magic Box exploded in a shower of glass. Demons poured in, growling and shrieking. Anya grabbed Tara while Xander picked up Buffy and they headed to the basement where the trapdoor into the sewer was.

"Buffy please please please please please snap out of it. No laying down on the job."

"She needs a hospital." Anya looked at the fork in their path, then led them into the tunnel on the left.

* * *

Willow’s eyes fluttered open. The effects of the spell lingered, and she was groggy and disoriented. As she blinked away the fog, she realized someone was carrying her, and not gently. Whoever it was, had slung her over their shoulder. For a moment, she thought it might be Spike, but then she realized there were claws digging into her thigh. Willow tensed, the truth of her situation hitting her like a truck -- a Hellion carried her.

Still too limp to struggle, Willow knew magic was out of the question. She needed time to recharge. For now, the only course of action open to her was to concentrate on drawing power into herself. Eventually she could strike back -- assuming the demon didn’t rip her apart first. It dug its claws deeper into her thigh and growled.

‘Don’t panic,’ she told herself. ‘Don’t panic…’


	2. Chapter 2

Fire from the reception desk reflected off the ax blade the Hellion held as it laughed. “Stupid blood rat.” As it pulled the blade back, Spike closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool white tiled floor, welcoming oblivion. His epiphany horrified him so much that he’d rather be dust than unlive like this. Hadn’t this damn chip stripped away his identity enough?

A whoosh urged his eyes open just in time to see the Hellion go up in green flames, the weight of the ax smashed a few tiles. Spike continued to lay there, eyes glued to the drop ceiling visualizing patterns in the little black holes. The electricity switched over to a generator, scattered flood lights now the only light. So when someone forced the doors to the ER open, the loud pop and crack announced they’d been broken. And Spike continued to lay there, disappointed and unconcerned.

He didn’t even care to move when he heard Anya say, “Of course the demons are gone. Didn’t you see how four of them died in Jell-O green flames? If four of them went up, they all went up. Trust me. I’ve seen this type of thing many times.”

“Fine, Ahn. Let’s just get a doctor.” Xander’s exasperation extra obnoxious right now.

Tara found an ‘authorized personnel only’ sign. “There have to be s-s-some doctors a-a-and nurses up that hall.”

With the electricity out they had to break that door too, and the wood splitting echoed through the barren waiting room.

Spike caught Dawn’s scent when she returned from wherever she’d hid. He knew her squeal of delight would be loud at seeing her only family. “Oh my god guys! What’s… is that -- is that Buffy?”

“Willow brought her back.” Xander sounded like he was about to choke on his tongue.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“We think it’s jet lag from hell.” Anya, as always, blunt and with a skewed perspective. He often felt like he was the only one to appreciate it.

“She might need an IV or something too, right?” Dawn asked. “To re-hydrate?”

“Ah huh.”

“I’ll help look for a doctor or someone… Wait. Where’s Willow? And where’s Spike?”

“Didn’t Spike make it to you?” Xander's anger dispirited. “Lazy bastard.”

“No. He made it and helped get me and Giles here, but then there was an attack and he sent me to hide.”

“He probably ran like the fuck up he is.” While annoying, Spike had none of the homicidal thoughts toward Xander that a statement like that usually did.

“Spike wouldn’t do that!” Dawn remembered a second after speaking he couldn’t run. She’d busted out his knee.

“Think whatever you want. I’ll find a doctor for Buffy. Come on, Tara.” Xander’s and Tara’s shoes crunched across the debris as they disappeared down the hall.

“What about Willow?” Dawn asked.

“I’m sorry.” Anya sounded guilt-ridden for the first time since Spike had met her. “We didn’t have time to save Buffy and Willow. She was still in the Magic Box when it got overrun.”

The sound of Dawn crying pulled Spike out of his ennui. To cover his ass, he popped out from behind the reception desk with his good leg. He knew that if he acted like he’d just regained consciousness they'd buy it. “Huh! Where’d the bastards go? Run off? That’s right. You can’t mess with the big bad and live!”

In a millisecond his arms were full of a sobbing Li’l Bit. “Spike! You’re okay.” She pulled away and looked up at him and he tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Nothing in any dimension could make me leave my girl, yeah?”

She gave him a weak smile as he thumbed her tears away. “Yeah.” Dawn hugged him quick and tight again, and then her expression filled with determination. “You need to find Willow. There’s still a couple hours before sunup. Get to her. She might be hurt or… she could be hurt really bad. Help her. Please?”

While Spike had nothing against the witch, he had nothing for her either. Unless he counted how much Willow meant to Dawn. Buffy’s attachment to Willow didn’t even mean anything to Spike. “For you, Bit, I’d move the sun.” He kissed her forehead and limped out the door, broken glass crunching under his boots.

That Buffy had returned hadn’t sunk in. And he knew that she hadn’t been truly resurrected until she could smile and laugh. Things he couldn’t give her in any real way. Smiles or laughs made from bitterness and desperation didn’t count, did they?

As a predator of humans there were advantages. One of those being the keen ability to find any person whose scent he’d caught. Willow had a smell so easy to distinguish that he found her in time, even if only just, since he was working with a handicap. She’d been a lump of ugly velvet, not that there was any attractive velvet, in an alley in the warehouse district.

These areas had the unfortunate tendency to have reinforced steel doors. And while that would never stop him, the economics didn’t work out this time. So the closest building with a wooden door had a devastating run in with his boot. He dropped the unconscious bitch on a pallet and then found his wrist crushed in a superhuman grip. He crumbled under pain he hadn’t known since the last time Angelus tortured him. Worse than the broken knee, this pain drained his energy and blinded him as the bones got ground down to dust. If he survived this attack, this would take longer to heal than his pulverized spine had. This was so not his night.

Gathering his conviction and blocking out the pain, he punched the thing with everything he had. Turned out that thing had a name he knew too well. “Ah bugger all.”

Willow looked up at him with a red cheek that would all too soon sport a large fresh bruise she got from Spike’s fist. “What the hell is going on?” Her voice took on a distinct accent. His accent. She rolled her eyes when she realized how she sounded.

“Bollocks,” they said at the same time.

 

The decision hadn’t been difficult. Dawn felt like it should have been. It should have been like trying to decide between parents that loved her and were wonderful. But in reality, she’d pick Buffy over everyone in the universe no matter what, every time. Giles had Xander, Anya, and Tara fussing over him, or he would when he woke up from the anesthetic.

Buffy couldn’t even get treatment. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with the limited equipment available. Once the electricity came back on though, Buffy would get the full work up.

The sky hadn’t gotten light enough for Spike to have stopped looking for Willow. But she wouldn’t know if he found her until it got dark again. The image of him limping with a crappy makeshift brace out of the hospital pulled the strings of the entire harp quartet of guilt. No matter how mad she got, crippling the only person helping her during a siege had been stupid. It was beyond all the stupid things she’d ever done in her entire real and fabricated life put together.

When Buffy made noises and blink rapidly, Dawn took her hand. “Buffy? Hey. It’s Dawn.”

“Dawn? What’s, um, what’s going on?” Buffy looked around the room and then back at Dawn.

“You’re in the hospital. You’ve been out of it for a while.” Dawn rubbed Buffy’s knuckles with her thumb.

“It was a dream?” Buffy sounded confused as her voice crackled from disuse. “But it felt so real. The electricity, the light, the floating and feelings of completeness. How long ago was the fight with Glory? You don’t look older.”

“It’s been a few months.” Dawn smiled with the butterflies of awkwardness beating their wings against her stomach walls. Her brain worked the problem as she got up and backed toward the door. “You thirsty? IV’s tend to take care of that problem but you sound like you could use something to wet your whistle.”

Dawn ran out of the room before Buffy could answer and down to Giles’s room. The rushed entrance got everyone’s attention and there was a cacophony to greet her. “Buffy thinks she’s been in a coma since the Glory fight.”

That news shut everyone up, Anya being the first to bounce back. “Oh. That might be helpful. If she was in one of the lesser hells than she probably thinks it was all a nightmare.”

“Wait, what?” Dawn’s face contorted with a thought just at the edge of her brain.

“If she was in one of the lesser hells than she probably thinks it was all a nightmare.” Anya’s repetitious tendency helped for a switch.

“She wasn’t in hell.” Dawn’s eyes moved fast as the thought coalesced. “She said she felt complete, and that there was light and floating. That doesn’t sound like hell.”

Silence as seven eyes stared at Dawn not helping her nervous stomach any.

“Giles! Um…how long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to know I’m in hell, I suppose.” Bandages covered half his face, his arm had a cast on it, and his stump had thick white bandages with red spots.

Dawn had to rip her gaze away. “Sorry.” Her head shake was slight this time. “I’m glad you’re awake because, and I can’t believe I’m about to say this but, I need you to tell me what to do.”

A sigh followed a wince as he moved in discomfort. “We should ease Buffy into the idea she died, has been dead for months. Now if you don’t mind, I need pain medication and sleep.”

Xander gave the man a tentative wave as he exited the room. Tara patted Giles's hand then followed Xander. Anya kissed his good cheek, and followed the others out the door, leaving Dawn and Giles alone together. “Giles, I’m so sorry for everything. You wouldn’t be like this if you weren’t protecting me. I promise I’ll do everything I can to get you, um, up and around again. I love you. You know you’re more my father than my own ever was. I promise…”

“Dawn!” His anger died before gaining steam. “I need to rest.”

She stepped forward to kiss his cheek like Anya had, but he turned his head so that only his nose was visible. Not knowing what to say, Dawn swallowed and crept out of the room. She got the water she’d promised Buffy and returned to her sister.

The gang surrounded the Buffster as they tried to explain the last few months around the collective anxiety. Dawn handed Buffy a paper cup with ice water and then sat down, staring at the floor. Dawn, distracted by her uncomfortable interaction with Giles, only half heard the conversation. They summed up Dawn’s summer as troubled, that Giles’s injuries were bad, and Willow would be fine as soon as they found her. Somewhere in there Dawn drifted off to sleep, all traces of adrenaline gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as how I made my few readers wait so long between the first two chapters, I feel the need to make amends for that. And despite wanting to keep a schedule, I'm far ahead enough on this fic to post this chapter early.

While time was still a bit wonky for Buffy, she at least trusted that the imminent danger had passed. The gang wouldn’t have acted that chill all day if it hadn’t. But right now Buffy had larger concerns as she sat next to Giles, holding his hand while he slept. Listening to all the small telltale signs of his pain, her heart ached for him. There were half grunts and deep inhales, fast breathing and whines, but all soft and noticeable only because she was so close to him. When his attempt to turn on his side caused a shout of pain, she squeezed his hand. “Want me to press the morphine button?”

“Yes, please.” A tear leaked from the corner of his visible eye and Buffy’s heart clenched as she pressed the button. Giles didn’t cry often, and never from physical pain. The idea of him hurting like that made her wish she had the nonexistent kind of magic. The kind that would fix all of them. Instead he still seemed to suffer despite the medication. “Do you need anything else? Water? They said you can eat now. The cable hasn’t gotten fixed yet, but Xander said he’d bring videos and a VCR if you were interested in any of his videos that we all know you’d detest.”

Giles tried to smile but winced from the cut over the left side of his mouth. “Water, with a straw, if you don’t mind.”

“You got it.” She poured him a glass of ice water from the pitcher on his bedside table into his Kiss the Librarian mug and put in the crazy straw, both of which Dawn had brought an hour ago. When Buffy handed it to him, Giles started to tear up again.

“My children. You’re all still children.” And then more tears fell. “My soldiers are children.” 

The cup got saved only because it was caught between their bodies as they clung to each other, sobbing.

From the door, Tara watched the father daughter type bonding with a sense of foreboding. Buffy’s aura didn’t look quite right. It had faded since last she looked at Buffy. That had been just after lunch and it wasn’t even dinner yet. She wondered if something went wrong with the resurrection spell and set her mind to finding out. With the growing strain on her and Willow's relationship, Tara often felt that she’d returned to outsider status. And that meant that no one would miss her if she left and did some more research on the spell they’d performed.

Buffy’s reflexes saved Giles’s mug when they pulled apart. “You know that’s not your fault, right? You know that how the gang got into this would’ve happened even if you weren’t my Watcher. And you know that without you, we’d all be dead. You know all that right?”

Giles smiled with the good side of his face and his eye wrinkled with it. “You’re a miracle. I’m lucky to have been your Watcher. I could never have asked for better or been more proud of anyone in my life.”

She smirked as she wiped her tears away. “Enough brooding! Angel isn’t even here. Let’s talk about something else. Like Spike teaching my sister how to drive and hot wire cars.”

“Well to be fair, Spike only taught her how to drive after he found out she’d been trying to steal cars, already knew how to hotwire, and had wrecked three vehicles.” Giles shrugged. “I’m not sure how much we can blame him, since the reparations for Dawn’s antics drained much of your mother’s life insurance money. We’ve been talking about selling the house and with my lease expiring, getting a small place that could still fit Dawn, Willow, Tara, Spike, and myself.”

“Spike?”

“He lives in your basement right now. It’s astonishing how much he can fix. Turns out he can follow even the most complicated and intricate instructions. And having him on hand helps when we need to have someone keep an eye on Dawn. When he’s not patrolling that is.”

Her eyebrow shot to her hairline. “You. You’re defending and making a case for Spike living in my house? The same Spike that stalked me all last year?”

With the good sense to look sheepish, Giles cleared his throat. “Yes, well do know that it causes me great pain to say these things about the creature. But I blame this on you. You did invite him back into the group.”

“Uh huh.”

Flouncing into the room, Dawn asked, “Did he like the straw and mug?”

“He thought it was childish.” Buffy’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

“They’re not childish! They’re playful and whimsical, and if you’re always serious you die sooner! Which means Giles needs extra extra whimsy in his life cause he’s all old and stuff.”

“Yes, I’m ancient and would be obsolete without twisty straws and novelty mugs.” Giles and his dry sarcasm didn’t sway Dawn from her position.

“I said you were old, not ancient. And you’ll never be obsolete, so I have even more reason to try and make sure you live as long as I do.” Dawn flopped into the seat on the other side of Giles’s bed.

“Well, that’s a stirring endorsement from a teenager with the eye makeup of a raccoon and clothes that would be better left to Rocky Horror cast offs.” He couldn’t turn his head enough to see her but he knew how she’d been styling herself for the last couple months.

Dawn giggled. “I bet you made a great Frank N Furter.”

Skin turning pink, Giles stammered and Buffy choked on soda. “Giles! You’re blushing! You really were Frank N Furter?”

“He was. I saw the pictures in one of the albums he hides under his bed. He also used to play guitar in a punk band, and there are some candids that make me wonder what the exact nature of his relationship with Ethan Rayne was when they hung. Is he hung?” Dawn loved Buffy’s horrified look. .

“Ugh! I can’t think about Giles like that!” Buffy covered her ears and hummed for a few seconds.

Giles looked at the ceiling. “Dawn I told you before that I’d drop the matter without punishment if you never discussed the contents of that album. And now you’re forcing me to think up a punishment that would dissuade even you from sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. You were hot when you were younger, and you and Ethan looked like you had a wonderful and passionate relationship. There’s nothing sexier.” Dawn put her feet up on his bed as she slouched in her seat.

“I removed my hands too soon.” Buffy’s pout amused both Dawn and Giles. It amazed both of them that they could be so normal so quickly after Buffy’s return from the dead. Buffy, on the other hand, had to force herself to act like everything was fine when inside she wanted nothing but to be in that coma again. Her life had been so much better when she thought she was dead.

* * *

Sitting in the middle of the disaster that had been the Magic Box, Anya felt like crying. Her livelihood had been destroyed. She’d seen pieces of the bot in a dumpster being used by a cleanup crew she passed on her way here. Between Giles’s injuries and Buffy’s resurrection and Willow being unaccounted for, the only silver lining Anya could see was that Xander wasn’t here bitching that he needed a drink. He should be out looking for Willow, but instead, Anya knew that he’d be at the closest open bar. Last she’d seen him, his hands had been trembling from withdrawal.

She’d managed to board up the front window and door on her own, so it made her jump when the door of the training room opened. Her squeak annoyed her. “Tara! Don’t do that.”

Tara didn’t even look at Anya as she went straight up to the loft with a quick, “Sorry,” thrown over her shoulder.

“What are you looking for?” Anya climbed up the stairs and was relieved to see that this section hadn’t been damaged at all. The basement, though, had been trashed when the Hellions came after them during the attack.

“I just want to make sure we didn’t miss anything with the spell.” Tara didn’t look up. Her attention focused on finding the right book.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay fine, I just have a sinking feeling that something’s not right. It’s probably nothing, but I-I’ll feel better if I can confirm that we didn’t miss anything.”

“Since I have nothing better to do, I’ll help you.” Anya knelt down and started looking through the shelves too.

This time Tara did look at Anya. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

Willy poured another beer for Xander. His place had managed to get passed over in the Hellion debacle, not a surprise. But that meant most of his customers today were of the human variety, which was a surprise. This one he remembered. Xander had been in more than once after the Glorificus debacle.

Debacle was the word of the day on the Word-a-Day Calendar Willow had gotten him last Chanaka, so he tried to work it into his thoughts and not just his conversations. Smartening himself up a bit to impress the ladies. Since he didn’t have the looks or the money, he needed the brains. He’d tried working on getting into Willow’s orbit, a fellow Jew, sure to make his mother happy, but he found out fast that she only had eyes for Tara.

“You might want to ease up Xan-man. This is my break from the debacle of cleaning up gross messes.” Willy set the beer down.

“I’ve been calling myself the Xan-man for years.” He smiled, sloppy and goofy, dribbling beer down his shirt as he tried to drink at the same time. After wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Xander threw a few bills at Willy. “You’re the best.”

Counting the money and finding a twenty in the mix, Willy grinned. “You know it, kid.”

Xander downed half his beer and then asked, “Do you know what an Irish Car Bomb is?”

“Coming right up.” Even if the kid couldn’t pay his tab at the end of the night, Willy would let it slide. Xander hung with the Slayer and Willow, making him a good guy to be in good graces with to help avoid any unwanted debacles. Besides, he kinda liked the kid.


	4. Chapter 4

“You don’t seem too worried about Willow,” Anya said as she set another book on the floor in front of her.

Tara paused and looked as though she were listening to something only she could hear. “She’s alive and her pulse is strong.”

“Neat trick.”

“Not so much a trick as just we’ve done so much magic together that we’re connected mystically.” Tara closed the book in her lap and sighed. “I keep finding all these allusions to some kind of quest related to the spell, but nothing specific.”

“Same here. And I want to say I’ve heard of the quest before, but it’s been a few hundred years.” Anya sighed and shrugged. “I suppose I can try asking a couple demons I still know about it.”

“Could you? If there’s something wrong, we need to know and we need to be able to fix it.” Tara looked so worried that Anya nodded.

“...got to have something about this new cock up of my unlife here, right?” Spike’s voice drifted up to the loft. “Still not speaking to me?”

“Who’s there?” Anya called as she climbed down from the loft. “Oh, hi, Willow. What happened to your face? And your ey… oh, I see.” She turned her face up toward the loft. “Hey Tara! Someone beat up your girlfriend!”

“Red here got kidnapped by some Hellions since the rest of you left her here alone,” Spike said. Cradling his useless wrist, he merely raised his eyebrows at Willow's glare. “What? Even your girl left you.”

Willow’s eyes filled with tears and she looked away. Much to her surprise, Anya spoke up. “We all left her. If we hadn’t, we would’ve died. All of us. Most of the demons that burst in, followed the rest of us as we fled. If they hadn’t, Willow wouldn’t be alive.”

* * *

While Anya went downstairs, a word in the book she had abandoned caught Tara’s eye. Did it say succubus on that list? Turning the book around, she saw that Anya had gotten to the right place, the part about resurrection, so she had to have read wrong. Except she hadn’t. Listed, without ambiguities, were the requirements for the resurrection spell, Urn of Osiris, Wine of the Mother with a reference number, an incantation authored by the casting witch that, if accepted, would start the trials and if those were passed, then the soul would cross over. The addendum was that if the castor needed the body restored, then they would have to sacrifice their humanity. To keep the body intact, the witch would become a succubus or incubus. They would need to feed every night to keep the resurrected animated.

“Willow, what did you do?” Tara’s breath became ragged as she looked up Wine of the Mother. She found an animal sacrifice ritual. Flipping farther back into the book she found all the details on succubi. Tara continued to talk to herself as she translated the details. “A succubus or incubus is a demon created from a successful resurrection of the long dead. Lest they forfeit the spell and their souls, they must feed...” Before she could read anymore the book dissolved into a puddle of pulp.

“You don’t want to know, love.”

Tara looked up to see Willow standing there, eyes black and filled with lightning. Willow had an accent she didn’t understand but that was the least of their problems. “Willow what did you do?”

“What I had to.” Willow didn’t seem remorseful, but rather distant and cold.

“This isn’t you. W-what did you do? An-an-animal sacrifice? Turning into a demon? Why?” Tara couldn’t hold back the tears as they spilled down her cheeks and into the corners of her mouth.

“Buffy’s been my best friend since she got here. I couldn’t just let her rot, body and soul.” Anger seeped through Willow’s words.

“I know we couldn’t find out if she was in heaven or hell, but you’ve sounded so sure that she was in hell for a while now. Why?”

“Because intent behind a spell is the most important part. We both know it. Glory wanted to go back to her hell dimension so much that she overpowered her prison.” Willow stopped for a moment to collect herself. “There was no where else Buffy would end up with that kind of intent.”

Tara shook her head as the tears went from desperate to angry. “Well, you were wrong. She was in heaven. You did all this for nothing. You threw us away for nothing.” When Willow didn’t reply, Tara turned her back to hide her pain.

Willow’s boots scuffed on the metal stairs as she returned to the main floor. Then Tara heard her ask Spike to take her on patrol. When it was clear they’d left, Tara let herself break down and at some point Anya started holding her. When Tara managed to pull herself together, she looked at Anya, knowing her well enough to see that something more was wrong. “What is it?”

“We can’t tell the others. About Willow. If we tell the others, they’ll do something rash. We might not be able to reason with them. Everyone’s so high strung right now, and when emotions run this high, people get stupid. We can’t afford to be stupid. There’re two souls at stake. Willow’s and Buffy’s.”

Seeing Anya’s point, Tara nodded her agreement. “There’s still that quest, the one about the spell we used to get Buffy back. It might give us answers, or a way out of this.”

“That’s a big maybe, but who can go on a quest right now? They take forever, tend to be extremely dangerous, and don’t always give you the answers you want.”

Tara picked up the book she’d given up on before. “I’ll find out what I need and go myself. I have nothing to lose.”

“You don’t have to look up anything.” Anya made an annoyed phlegmy noise in her throat. “I found the starting point over an hour ago. I didn’t say anything because I loathe Beljoxa’s Eye, and I’m the only one in the group that knows how to get there. Only demons have that information, and few pass it on anymore.”

After a long silence, Tara asked, “Well?”

“It’s just, I have nothing to lose either. Xander and I don’t even talk anymore, we just yell. And I know for a fact orgasms are better than alcohol but he doesn’t seem to see it. Perhaps if he misses me enough, he’ll clean up his act.” Anya sighed, feeling dejected. “We’ll go to Beljoxa’s Eye. But we should pack first cause that’s only the starting point.” She stood up and grumbled to herself all the way down the stairs and into the training room.

With a deep breath, Tara followed.

* * *

While Giles snored and Dawn slept with her head resting on the edge of his pillow, Buffy stared out the window. Her view looked out over the parking lot, not that she saw anything.

“Where’s everyone else?” the nurse asked as she checked on things. “There used to be an army of you.”

“I don’t know.” Buffy didn’t think about her response, but rather just let the words happen.

“You should get back to your own room, Miss.”

Buffy nodded and as she turned, she slipped and the back of her hand caught on a bolt in the bed frame. Blood welled and dripped to the floor, making Buffy feel real again. She hadn’t even noticed how unreal she’d been feeling. But this, this helped. Proof of life, as it were.

She let the nurse fuss over her long enough to get a bandage, but then she decided to go for a walk. Buffy couldn’t be this still, for this long, and not go crazy. That had to be the real reason she’d been so out of it. A brisk walk was in order.

Throwing on the outfit Dawn brought her, Buffy looked in the mirror and decided that a ponytail would help conceal her greasy hair. Tying her hair back took more concentration than it should have, but that just meant the walk was long overdue.

A block away from the hospital, Buffy felt herself drifting off again, so she rubbed the bandage into the fresh wound. Little bolts of pain shot up her arm and refreshed her. This happened again and again until she couldn’t go any farther and sat on a bench, not even aware of the cemetery around her.

* * *

“Red?”

“What, Yellow?” Willow asked beyond frustrated. Her skin itched with need. If she didn’t get some energy into her soon, Buffy would die again. And even if she had been in heaven that didn’t mean she’d go there again, so Willow had to feed, whether she liked it or not.

Spike grabbed Willow’s arm with his good hand, the other held in place by nothing but skin and muscle. “I know what you are. I know what you’re looking for.”

“And?”

“I’m standing right here and I’m a right treat if I do say so myself.”

She shot him a look that told him how stupid he sounded.

“It’s Buffy, yeah? You know I’d do anything for her. Let me.” It didn’t sound like the pathetic Spike that stalked Buffy all last year. This sounded sincere.

“I took too much from you for you to volunteer again now. That punch was Xander weak. Or do you want more pulverized bones? We need to find a different source for tonight, and I’m going to need to learn control.” She squinted as she tried to see through the fog they’d wandered into.

“Hey! No need to be a bitch about it.”

Willow stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and scowled at him. “Call me a bitch again, and I’ll suck you till you’re sweepable. Cause you know, you’ll be dust.”

Through clenched teeth he replied, “Got it. Let’s get you fed then.”

“Aren’t these places usually teaming with oogly booglies?” She asked as she turned and dodged a headstone with demonic grace. “Huh.”

“That’s the rumor anyway.” He grabbed his dangling hand with the other. “Can’t you do something about this damn thing?”

“If I get enough to eat then maybe, but I don’t know how much witch juice I have left.” Willow got distracted. “Did you hear that?”

Spike cocked his head. “Sounds like some Glarghk Guhl Kashmas’niks. Which is good for us. I speak Glarghk Guhl Kashmas’nik.”

“Of course you do.” Willow rolled her eyes. “I can barely pronounce Glarghk Guhl Kashmas’nik and you speak the language.”

“I’ll distract while you feed. Just follow me, silently, and stay behind them. Pick off the stragglers until there aren’t any.”

She nodded once, and they set off to take down their prey.


	5. Chapter 5

As if hit with a lightning bolt of energy, Buffy’s head snapped up just in time to fight off some waxy demon with a spike sticking out of the fist aimed at her.

She rolled off the bench while kicking out and pushing the creature back far enough for her to get her feet under her before its next attack. They traded blows, and Buffy avoided the stinger of doom until the wax monster caught her off guard with another stinger in its other hand. The giant needle entered her skin as the world changed into the psych ward from when she first found out about vampires.

* * *

“You know you’re nothing but a barmpot, don’t you?” Spike asked as they rushed after the Glarghk Guhl Kashmas’nik that got away. At least she had fixed his knee making the chase possible. “Do you have a single fighting skill?”

“Spike, shut up.” Willow pointed to the figure on the ground with the demon hovering over it on the edge of the cemetery. “You take care of the GGK and I’ll take care of the casualty.”

Spike chased after it, both out of sight before Willow found out the victim was Buffy. “Oh, Goddess.” She felt a wet spot on the front of Buffy’s shoulder.

Buffy muttered, unseeing as soon as Willow tried to move her. “They can never know. Never.”

Since Buffy wanted to walk, Willow went with that and headed them toward home. If Buffy didn’t know reality from whatever the heck was happening to her, she couldn’t be at the hospital. They’d lock her in the psych ward, and the things she’d say could cause a recurrence of MOO. Willow shivered at the memory of her pant leg catching fire.

* * *

When the sun threatened, Spike hightailed it to the closest shelter.

“Bloody hell, did they carve a cross into every possible surface?” He settled down in the vestibule of the disused church where the crosses could be avoided. He used the remnants of the makeshift brace from his knee to form a makeshift brace for his useless wrist. At least now it didn’t dangle in that obnoxious way.

He passed the time by playing count the crosses till he couldn't look.

* * *

After navigating the destruction left behind by the Hellions, Willow led Buffy into the wreck that used to be her home. Under her breath, Willow said, “Thanks for the heads up, Spike.”

As she got Buffy upstairs and Willow sighed in relief upon finding Buffy’s room intact. Willow didn’t understand how they got across town without incident with the chaos and how people stared at them. And when she glimpsed herself in the mirror on Buffy’s vanity, she jumped. “What the?”

Those were not her eyes. A green so dark it was almost black and claimed by Zeus with no whites of which to speak. Her skin had an opaque off white glass appearance. And her hair shimmered in the light like those women in the Pantene commercials. When she heard Buffy say her name, sounding lucid, Willow grabbed the only sunglasses there, a pair with a pink and orange floral pattern straight from the sixties painted on the plastic frames. She turned and Buffy looked at her as if she’d officially lost her mind.

“Really, Will? Those belong to Dawn. From when she was nine.”

“Explains the tightness.” Willow didn’t take the glasses off, but instead sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Kinda freaked.”

“You don’t look freaked. You look bored.”

Buffy shrugged. “How did I get here? Was I in a coma or dead? Or am I hallucinating and in a psych ward in LA?”

“You were attacked by a demon, they inject victims with a hallucinogenic poison thing to soften them up. I know how to reverse the effects. Think you can stay here till I get back?”

“You can fix me?” At last Buffy sounded affected.

“Yes, you just have to stay here. It’ll take me a bit to make up the antidote. But I promise, I can fix this.” Willow patted Buffy’s hand when she nodded. “I’ll be as fast as possible.”

“Willow?” Buffy said before Willow made it two steps.

“Yeah?”

“Will it fix my eyes too?”

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Willow furrowed her brow, concerned.

“You're all shiny and lic- uh, shiny.” Buffy flushed and looked away.

“Sure. It’ll fix you right up.” Willow hurried out of the house, still wearing the velvet dress from, was it two nights ago now? She didn’t give two figs it was covered in dirt and grime. It could be deadly if she wasted time to change.

* * *

Dawn stretched out her neck, adding fingers to try to work out the kink there. She didn’t open her eyes until she heard Giles hiss.

“Bloody juice! Can’t even drink it.” He pushed the tray away.

“Silly Giles. You’ve got a cut that will leave a bitchin’ scar on your lip. Of course you can’t drink juice. Especially citrus. What was that? Grapefruit?” She stood up and continued to stretch. “I’ll get you some fresh water or some ginger ale if you want.”

“Ginger ale. And check on your sister. She wasn’t here when I woke up. And the nurse is a pillock that won’t tell me anything.”

“Ginger ale and neb nosing. I’m on it, oh Captain my Captain.” She saluted him and skipped out of the room the way she knew annoyed him this early in the morning.

If she wanted to get the ginger ale to Giles cold then checking on Buffy first made the most sense. So she peeked through Buffy’s open door. “Wha?” She grabbed the nurse passing by, grasping his wrist. “Where’s my sister?”

He sighed. “We don’t know. She disappeared sometime last night. We'll be waiting a while for the police.”

“Why aren’t they here now?” Dawn asked her voice raising in alarm.

“Sunnydale’s a war zone. After that biker gang split, the locals went crazy out there. Continued looting and property destruction to name the little stuff. Sorry, but a missing adult isn’t too high on their list of priorities when they have missing children.” His expression sympathetic as he walked away.

“Fuck shit bitch.” She glanced back toward Giles’ room. No good would come from telling him that Buffy pulled a Copperfield this soon after getting her back. So she shouted into his room she needed something from home and ran down the hall. Dawn needed to find Buffy now more than she’d ever needed anything.

The upside of being part of the criminal element meant that she could run fast for long distances to avoid getting caught. She took ten minutes to get home rather than three times that. When she got there, she found Buffy sifting through the debris that used to be their living room. Dawn attacked Tigger style. “Buffy,” she said with an out of breath gasp.

“Dawn?” Buffy looked at her sister a bit strange. “Ah, why are you soaking wet?”

After flopping onto the only intact chair in sight, Dawn held up a finger as she gulped down air. “Ran -- here.”

“From where? Maine?”

“Hospital.” A few more lungfuls of air allowed Dawn a full sentence. “You disappeared, and I got worried.”

Buffy shook her head like a haze had come over her she needed to disperse. “I went for a walk, got attacked, Willow thought home was the best choice.”

“You saw Willow? Is she okay? What happened to her? Where’s Spike?”

“Ah, yeah, Willow found me and got me home. She seemed strange even for her. I didn’t see Spike.” Buffy cleared off a space on the floor and sat down. “How’s Giles?”

> “Giles.” Dawn said with trepidation.
> 
> The image of Dawn in front of Buffy shifted to a much more innocent version, the Dawn she knew before Glory.
> 
> “It's so weird. He, he left today. Because you were…” The innocent Dawn looked forlorn.
> 
> But the image slid again this time to see her mother and father walking into the office at the institution.
> 
> “Look who’s here,” the psychiatrist said.
> 
> Her universe slipped to a desperate looking Spike in the bathroom of all places.
> 
> “You should have let him kill me.” Spike’s disappointed voice struck her.

Back with the grungy goth version of Dawn, in the devastated living room with half smudged off eye makeup and the remnants of lip liner still visible, pulled a sigh from Buffy.

“Did you hear a word I said?” Dawn asked with concern.

Buffy stammered for a moment. “Ah, sorry. I phased out for a minute.”

“Are you hurt? From the attack last night? If you’re hurt, you should’ve gone back to the hospital.” Dawn moved to kneel in front of Buffy and check her over for injuries.

Buffy took Dawn’s hands before she found the shoulder wound. “I’m fine. Just a little acid trippy that’ll clear up when Willow gets back.”

“Yeah, real convincing. Now tell me the truth.”

“I…” Buffy’s explanation got cut short because her world shifted yet again.

> Spike in a burnt out hole in the ground wearing the worst clothes ever, and she said, “I do want you.”
> 
> Another slip in the scenery and Spike was telling her. “I love you. You know I do.”
> 
> “Tell me you want me.”
> 
> “I always want you. In point of fact-” Spike ogled her.
> 
> “Shut up.”
> 
> Buffy pulled Spike on top of her as she twisted so she lay on the beir, kissing and removing clothes. Buffy groaned in pleasure and then pain as orderlies held her down while someone else gave her a shot in her hip. Her vision and scream went from the institution back to her wrecked living room in Sunnydale. 

“Buffy!” Dawn yelled as she held Buffy in place, so she didn’t hurt herself. “What’s going on?” But, Buffy didn’t respond, but rather wept and gasping for air like she’d run her own marathon.

Dawn was about to slap Buffy but stopped when Willow crashed through the door with a thermos in her hand.

“Buffy!” Willow stopped short and turned to them. “We need to get this down her. Every drop.”

They worked together to force Buffy to drink the entire potion. “Is this blood?”

“Er, not all of it.”

“Have you seen Spike?”

“He’s holed up for the day in a church, poor bastard.”

With both of their hands on the thermos, Dawn’s hand coming into contact with Willow’s was bound to happen. But Dawn’s reaction startled Willow enough she almost dropped the jug. “Holy shit! You feel like, like, like, porcelain, the polished kind, but I don’t know, soft too. What the fuck happened to you and why are you wearing my old sunglasses?”

The last of the antidote in Buffy, Willow picked her up. “I’ll be right back to explain everything. Everything's fine, Dawnie. Perfectly fine.”

No way did Willow pick Buffy up like she weighed nothing and carry her upstairs. Who did Dawn think she was kidding? It happened, and she sat there.

Willow returned, and Dawn noticed for the first time that her dress had rips, blood, dirt, and grime all over it. A few of those tears in embarrassing locales that Willow didn’t notice. Grabbing a blanket, Dawn wrapped it around Willow. “So what happened?”

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell Giles or Xander--or even Buffy. They’d super freak the hell out.” Willow held out her pinky finger and Dawn hooked her own pinky with it and pulled up and down.

They sat down as Dawn said, “I swear. Now spill.”

“Bringing Buffy back took more than a spell. When we got all the ingredients together she’d been dead a long time… restoring someone that far gone takes sacrifice. So I sacrificed my humanity,” Willow realized what she said and rushed to add, “but not my soul! I’m a demon. There’s no way to reverse it, but it’s not so bad. I’ve got cool new strength, and a glossy new makeover.”

“Take off the sunglasses,” Dawn said, her skepticism showing.

With her head down she removed the glasses. “This is the kooky part so don’t spazz, okay?”

“Okay. Just show me.” Dawn thought she was prepared but Willow's eyes looked like an active plasma lamp, mostly green with bolts of various colors shooting through them. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Willow’s. “Holy crap! Those are so fucking cool.”

“Dawnie.” Willow warned.

“Sorry but Will have you looked at your eyes? They’re psychedelic, the cool kind, not the cheesy kind. I love all the colorful electricity.” Dawn giggled and rolled her eyes at Willow’s perplexed expression. “Oh come on, I’m a former mystical key, my sister’s the Slayer that resurrected by my favorite witch, and we live with a vampire. Did you really think I’d spazz out from a little more paranormal stuff in my life?”

“Good. I figured out the personality stuff but I have to work on glamours. Wanna help?” Willow quirked a smile. “Wait. Colorful? They were one color earlier.”

“I want to know more about the personality stuff?”

“Long story, just don’t be too shocked if I talk in demonic tongues or something.” Willow stood up. “First, I need to get cleaned up. Keep an eye on Buffy for me?”

“Sure.” Dawn ran up the stairs and tiptoed into her sister’s room. Buffy looked so young when she slept, almost as young as Dawn. She heard the shower and Willow’s relieved, “Thank Goddess.” So they must have hot water. Dawn toed off her shoes and curled up next to the real Buffy. One with a pulse and body heat. It had to suck being removed from heaven, but Dawn could only feel so bad. They’d all been so lost without Buffy. They were nothing more than rocks without her to make them planets.

* * *

Xander groaned when some asshole tried to shake him awake. “Go away.”

“Xan, you gotta get up. Some demons wanna use the bathroom. Vacating would be a good idea.”

“Willy?” Xander asked, eyes too bleary to make out details.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out. But seriously, kid, you need to get out.”

Xander stumbled out of the cool comfort of the bar into the blazing heat and light of the sun. “When’d day happen?”

* * *

“Why not?” Anya asked, the demon that Tara assumed was Torg. His build and piercings intimidated Tara.

“You have the nerve to ask me that?” Torg replied his rejection clear to Tara.

“Come on, Torg, that was like a lifetime ago.”

Torg looked sad yet nostalgic. “Three, but who's counting. You broke my heart, Anyanka.”

“Don't be so dramatic, Torg. You don't even have a heart.” Anya laughed. “Six spleens, two stomachs, half a brain maybe, but no heart.”

“Don't mock this. The night we spent together was...important to me.”

“It was one date. And it wasn't even a date.” Anya laughed.

Tara had to interrupt, her annoyance bolstering her confidence. “Either open the portal or we’ll have the Slayer come by and see what she thinks of your business.”

Torg raised his fist in front of Tara’s face, but she held her ground. He looked impressed and pulled on a claw sticking out of the back of his hand until it broke away. He flung the blood from his wounded hand toward the back of the alley, creating a white glowing portal. “Ek'vola mok't Beljoxa do'kar. Don’t pull stunts like that.” He stomped back into his restaurant.

Anya glanced at Tara. “This is going to suck.” The two women pushed forward through hurricane wind to get through the portal. They had just gotten there when this huge caged ball of eyes told them to “Ask the Loa,” and ejected them back into their own dimension.

“I swear Bel thinks he’s so great being an Oracle. Forgets about the little guy trying to save the world.” Anya dusted herself off.

“What’s the Loa?”

“I only remember that it’s in LA.”

Tara picked scraps of paper out of her hair. “LA’s not so bad.”

“Never been there have you?” Anya asked as the walked toward her car.

“No.”

“Obviously. Let’s get there and get it over with.” Anya opened the car door. “Did you leave a note?”

“Of course.” Tara got into the passenger seat.

With a satisfied smile Anya got behind the wheel. “That's good enough for both of us.”


	6. Chapter 6

The sun hung low in the sky turning the floor of the vestibule into a kaleidoscope of color. Some higher power saw fit to spare this bored and aggravated chipped vampire. None of the stained glass windows had crosses in them, and not only were they pleasant but their coloring meant that he didn’t have to worry about getting singed. He looked at the Glarghk Guhl Kashmas’nik, making sure it was still insensate. Willow had lured it here earlier and they beat it into unconsciousness. Nice little break in the monotony that was. While they used the chains from the thurible that got left behind to secure Uncle Fester, they wouldn’t hold long. So Spike kept watch all day, beating the thing as needed, and sometimes just cause he was in the mood. 

His ears perked at the sound of a conversation. “I love dusk. Looks like the sky became edible, like sherbet or something.” Willow must have brought Dawn with her. “Are you sure Buffy and Xander will be okay? He looked really sick. His hangovers aren’t getting any better. And Buffy, well, she looked sad.”

“I needed you to make a smoke screen to get me out of there before they could ask any questions. I’d never be able to make them be okay with this.” Willow sounded like she’d been dragged through gravel. 

“At least Tara left a note and we know where her and Anya went. That quest thing, I mean maybe they can find a permanent solution.” Dawn opened the church door just enough to get through, showing her second nature to avoid too much sun getting through. He supposed living with a vampire would do that .

The scent of her dessert cloyed the air. Dawn had a cone filled with orange and raspberry sherbet dripping over her fingers juxtaposed against fresh black eye makeup and hair twisted up to show she’d shaved the underneath again. Used a bladed razor this time. “Hey Nibblet. Welcome to the succubus club.” He glowered at Willow, who just shrugged. 

The two women looked like sisters of a sort. Willow braided her hair close on the sides, wore night colors, and swapped out the sixties floral motif for brushed steel sunglasses. They could easily pass for the same age, with Dawn looking too old for her own good and Willow having shed a couple years with her transformation. 

Tossing the mushy cone into an old garbage can, Dawn scoped the church out. “How’d you manage here all day?”

“Learned a long time ago that patience worked better than burning to death. Been stuck worse places. What’s Willow told you?”

“I covered the important parts.” Willow stood over the demon, salivating at her need for a fresh meal.

Dawn wandered into the main part of the church not wanting to see this.

Striking faster than any vampire, Willow grabbed the demon by the throat, crushing its larynx with one hand as she used that pain to syphon its energy from it while blood oozed over her hand and absorbed into her skin. It gurgled as she took everything but the rags it had worn, not even a corpse left behind. 

“That’s never not going to be weird.” She breathed hard for a moment as Spike watched Willow's glowing skin return to its earlier porcelain appearance as, he assumed, the energy transferred to Buffy. But Red hit the floor.

“You need a top off.” Spike said wishing he hadn’t quit smoking. Tara wouldn’t budge on that though. If he was going to move in, he had to be smoke free. The witches didn’t want Dawn’s health to suffer the way her morality did. Morality could be turned around while lung damage couldn’t. Still, his hand fidgeted and his lip twitched both begging for something to occupy them. He inhaled and groaned. Since the resurrection spell, Willow had been smelling more and more like Buffy. Every time she transferred energy to Buffy, Willow got a little trace of the Slayer in return. He knew that if he closed his eyes, Willow could slip into the role of Buffy for him if he took her. But he never wanted to take Buffy. He wanted Buffy to want him, to love him. 

“Just take care of Dawn. Get her home. I have to pick up Giles from the hospital anyway. They only have room for the touch-and-go cases so they’re kicking him out.” Willow flashed a sardonic grin. “Make sure she steals nothing of consequence. And especially keep her away from anything with an engine.” And then Willow was gone.

“Dawn!” 

She popped her head back into the vestibule like she’d been waiting for the all clear. “Yeah?”

“I don’t believe I’ve taught you how to drive a motorcycle yet.” He could see her smile despite the gloom. The moon didn’t shine this direction yet, but that didn’t bother either of them.

“How dare you neglect your duties.” Dawn wagged a finger at him as she passed him to leave the church.

They walked down the street, Dawn trying to lick the sticky off her knuckles to no success. “You should teach Willow too. She might have super strength and whatever, but she’ll need more than that.”

“You’ll have to convince her more than me.” Spike wrapped his trench around Dawn’s shoulders when she shivered. 

“Hey, there’s one of those Hellion bikes over there. All abandoned and up for grabs.” Dawn’s smile turned mischievous. “It can’t be stealing if the owner’s dead, right?”

“You’re a bad influence, Bit. A right dodgy bint aren’t you?” Spike ruffled her hair, throwing it in complete disarray.

“You’re helpless to resist any request I make.” She tried to pick up the bike, denting it more as it smashed against the ground, taking her with it. Sprawled over the bike, she winced as her knees dug into ridged metal when pushing herself back to her feet. “Perhaps some weight training before riding one of these.”

“Or we’ll just start you on something lightweight. There’s a crotch rocket store the Hellions turned their metaphorical noses up at. The window should still be busted out though, making it easy pickings. What do ya say? Wanna fly?” Spike strode past Dawn just slow enough to catch the twinkle in her eyes.

“Sounds prime! Let’s go.” She giggled as she skipped down the street. Dawn felt light as air. She got her sister back, and while some drama and tragedy went down, she knew everything would turn out perfect. Tara and Anya had the quest avenue covered and Willow just got a major power up, so they’d be fine. Everyone she loved would be fine. So she let that lightness buoy her up.

* * *

Giles sat in the lobby of Sunnydale General waiting for Willow to pick him up. He’d asked for Anya to drive but it seemed he’d missed out on a lot while laying in that hospital bed. Midnight came and went before someone finally showed up. He didn’t recognize her. If she hadn’t said something to him, he’d have never believed she was Willow. Her hair had slick finger waves pulled back into a chignon, round sunglasses pulled straight from the beatnik era, fuller lips, gray leather pants and a fringed but sheer spaghetti strap top. Her heels looked as deadly as the rest of her. 

Long dormant senses made him feel her changed power source. No longer pulling her magic from the earth, but from somewhere a lot more dangerous. It felt demonic.

She stood in front of him, letting him inspect her in silence, but he had to know. “Willow, what happened to you?”

Her laugh vibrated through him. “It’s a glamour! Thought we all needed to lighten up.”

She wheeled him out of the hospital and when he could see her again, she looked like the Willow he’d known since she was little more than a child. While no longer wearing the garish sweaters of old, her shirt and pants were bright, and her face back to normal. The sunglasses, however, were still in place. 

“How can you see anything?” He asked as she helped him into his car. The new car was a manual he’d gotten both because he’d killed the transmission of the red sporty car, and because he thought none of the kids knew how to drive one.

“No worries, Giles. Just a side effect of the spell.” She put the chair in the trunk and then got behind the wheel, but before she could turn the ignition he took the keys from her. 

“You're an idiotic girl. Do you have any idea what you've done? The forces you've harnessed, the lines you've crossed? What kind of sacrifices you will have to make?”

“I always knew what it would take. What I was doing. What it would cost. So step off your high horse. Sunnydale was drowning and Buffy’s death didn’t create a new Slayer this time, and Faith refused to let me break her out. What was I supposed to do?” Her venom stung him.

“This is the glamour isn’t it, and not what I saw in the lobby?” He handed her the keys again.

“Brace yourself, Rupert, I signed on for the long haul. I won’t go back.” She sighed as she let the glamour drop. “Giles, I’m sorry. But I didn’t know what else to do. There was a bigger than big chance Buffy’d been sent to hell. The Hellions were just the latest of large scale attacks, we couldn’t get a hold of Angel, and no one was coming to help us. Things got desperate. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Giles rubbed his stump. “I don’t know what any of us could have done. But you can’t move into the new place with us. Buffy shouldn’t have to carry the burden of knowing the cost, and we all know how Xander is about demons. We can’t risk them finding out. At least not this suddenly.”

When he handed her back the keys, she started the car and pulled away from the curb. “Knew that the sold sign meant you bought the place. Does Buffy know?”

“I’m trying to ease her into everything. A lot’s changed. Xander’s eviction got finalized the other day. Did he tell you?”

“No but it wasn’t hard to guess.” She slowed to a stop at the next intersection. “Am I taking you to the new place or Buffy’s pit of rubble.”

“Both. We’ll pick up Buffy and Xand…” Giles stopped when he looked at her and her glasses. “You can’t glamour away the eyes can you? And if we show up with you in sunglasses they’ll…”

“Ask why I wear my sunglasses at night? It’s a pickle that’s for sure.” She grabbed Giles’s hand and squeezed it. “Things will be fine. They have to be. I couldn’t have sacrificed this much to not get what we needed. So of course everything will work out.”

“Take me to Buffy’s. Then go to my new place and make sure it’s ready for us tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“I don’t want to know why you’re dressed that way do I?”

“Nope. But if it makes you feel better, I'm anti-comfy in this getup.” She shrugged as she turned around the bend just before the Summers house.

“It does actually.” When they came to a stop. Giles grabbed her hand, holding her in the car. “Don’t lose everything about yourself. I don’t think I could bare losing any of you. And you’ve always been so important to me. I may be Buffy’s Watcher but I’ve been your mentor and I tried and will continue to help you with your magic as much as I can.”

“How do you think I helped take down Glory? Giles you’re my teacher. And I learned something when I figured out you killed Ben.”

“A little too fast for my comfort.”

“Deduction. But I understood something then. The mission sometimes means sacrificing ourselves so that the real heroes can do their job. You’ve been doing it for years. It was my turn.” She saw movement in the living room window. “Let’s get you into the fire hazard before Xander leaves for a drink.”

“I don’t know what to do with him.” Giles sighed, Willow too far away to hear. Or so he thought.

“I don’t either,” she said as she unfolded the wheelchair next to his open door. Her glamour up again. “But at least Dawn and Spike made it home. They can help you out if you need it.”

As if saying his name made him appear, Spike walked out the front door and swaggered up to them. “I think Red here needs to go before she’s seen driving at night in sunglasses.”

“Well, I’ll go if you promise to take care of everyone, Yellow.”

His nod solemn, Spike said, “You know what I’d do for Buffy.”

“I do.” She left Giles with Spike and drove off without a backward glance.

“Think she’s prepared for what’s ahead of her?” Giles asked Spike as they watched the car disappear.

“None of us is prepared for anything, Rupes. You know that.” He stepped behind the wheelchair and got Giles into the house.

* * *

“This can’t be right,” Tara said as she stood in front of the drive-thru speaker imbedded in a giant smiling and waving fiberglass hamburger. 

Anya sighed. “This is right. You should appreciate the tenacity some of these oracles have. There’s been a statue of some kind here since the dawn of time, and they kept that up through the rise of the greasy fast food craze. I am a bit disturbed about the backwards evolution I keep seeing everywhere though. Do the thing.”

Tara gulped and began the ritual to call on the Loa by setting a bowl of myrrh in front of the hamburger. “Mange sec Loa, alegba, accept this offering - and open the gates of truth”

The Hamburger statue grew five hundred percent and towered over the women, taking on a small amount of animation including some aggressive red glowing eyes. “How dare you call on the Loa!”

“I come i-i-n supplication, oh great one, begging for a solution.” Tara did her best to keep her voice steady but lost some ground when steam billowed around them. 

“The solution you seek will never be. The sacrifice is made and will burden all surrounding the cubare.” The Loa Burger swayed with a malice that crept up Tara’s spine while Anya just got annoyed.

“Beljoxa said you had answers.”

The Loa got even bigger and loomed. “You have the answer. You need the question asked by every companion of a cubare. Find it in the caves of request. Now go and disturb the Loa no more.” And the Loa was gone, leaving only a drive-thru speaker in a fiberglass humanoid hamburger.

Anya groaned and slapped her purse against the statue. “I hate oracles and quests. Beljoxa could have told us that if they weren’t all just laughing at us.”

“Um, Anya? Do you know what it meant?” Tara asked.

“We have to go to freaking Africa. Clay hates me! Never found out why.” Anya sighed and took a deep breath as if steeling herself for battle. “This will take a lot of personal prep work on my part.”

“We should probably go.” Tara linked her arm through Anya’s and guided her off. “We’ll get to that prep work tomorrow. We should find a hotel and get some sleep.”

“And you’ll find my plight funny! But if you dare laugh at me, I swear I’ll…”

“I wouldn’t laugh at you, Anya. I just begged a hamburger, and you didn’t make fun of m-me.”

“Does this mean we’re more than just Scooby girlfriends? That we’re friends, real friends?” Anya asked.

“Yes, Anya, we’re real friends.”

The two women walked back to the car, smiling. The load not gone but lighter.


	7. Chapter 7

No longer able to keep up pretenses, Buffy excused herself to go out on patrol. Not only did she feel out of place but she’d gotten her first look at Giles without bandages. The cut from the forehead, through the eye that puckered at the corner of his nose, disturbed her the most. How the eye had lost color and filmed over, looked too much like Kakistos. It hit her harder than seeing his stump, or the other wounds. Despite having killed Kakistos, he was still a frequent guest star in her nightmares. Buffy wondered if Faith had similar nightmares.

Sunnydale sat close enough to a desert that night dropped the temperatures lower than one would expect. She headed for a cemetery, wearing a jacket she’d had for years due to the perfect lining that didn’t trap sweat to make her freeze. The main city would be just about deserted so she hoped to catch the demons on their way to bed. At least out here she didn’t have to pretend to be grateful for surviving the jump off the tower. All those feelings of completion they had to be real. How could she be so wrong about that? Did she die and get revived again? Is that what happened?

Buffy had some memories from the time she’d drowned to death. They were different though, colorful. Did that make this experience any more or less likely to be real? Even full of energy like now, Buffy still felt things too much and too little at the same time. News about strangers made her cry buckets, but she felt little for those closest to her. Her nearest and dearest were dolls that got stuck in her aching play set, nothing more than painful reminders that none of this was real.

A twig snapped just within earshot and she turned off her existential thoughts to let her Slayer instincts take over.

The vampire would’ve been dust if a question hadn’t penetrated her hunting persona. What damage could this fledgling do if she used defense but no offense?

So she let it get up and found herself disappointed as it tried to get away. A fling of her stake took care of that.

“They fight when you want them to run, and they run when you want them to fight. Slaying’s a bitch ain’t it?” Spike asked from behind her.

“And here I thought you’d outgrown your need to follow me around making moon eyes.” She couldn’t even muster bee venom for that comment let alone cobra.

“Keeping a promise is all. I saved Dawn, not when it counted but she’d have gone round the bend without me these last few months. And she just told me to back you up. So, I may be a lot of things but I keep my,” he huffed in self-deprecation. “I guess I don’t keep my promises. So if you want me to tell Dawn I cocked it all up again, I will.”

“Where was Willow? Or Tara? Or anyone when Dawn needed them?” Buffy asked her throat constricting.

“Willow’s been working two jobs and going to night classes. Tara had classes and took up some work at the Magic Box telling fortunes.” He patted his pockets down before he remembered he didn’t smoke anymore and let his hand drop. “Giles and Anya, well they had to keep the shop going. That’s been a tick more difficult lately with all the attacks. The bot didn’t scare away much of anything. Too easy to see she weren’t you.”

When he walked she followed. “And Xander.”

“A not quite so functioning alcoholic. And given his disappearing act these last couple days, he’ll be lucky if the construction blokes don’t set him on literal fire when they sack him.” His eyebrows punctuated the point.

“That explains him, but what about the others? What’s going on around here? Why is everyone working so hard when Mom kept everything together by herself?” Buffy hated it when he shrugged like that. That lean that told her she should have gotten it already.

“Your mum had a gallery. Arts and antiquities, yeah? While Sunnydale may not be a metropolitan, she sold some mighty expensive pieces regularly. The gallery got sick and died with her, I’m afraid. Insurance only covered so much. Pint size helped nothing there, sad to say. You told her to live, and she took that advice to a darker place than I imagine you meant.” He shrugged. “So in the end, after Dawn’s fines, and your mum’s hospital bills, plus the lawyers and whatnot so Hank didn’t take Dawn away, there’s nothing left. Although if you want to smile, imagine the coronary Anya had when the bank account hit zero.” He smiled after she managed a brief smile.

“Dawn steals though?” Buffy asked concerned. Neither of them even paused when a demon jumped out and Buffy sliced its head off.

“Started off small, just-to-feel-alive antics but now she can’t seem to help it. We try to keep an eye on her, one of the responsible ones with her all the time, make sure she doesn’t get in big trouble or take anything important. Red and I seem to be able to get through to her the most there. The Nibblet used Tara for her soft motherly ways, but not even she could replace what the girl lost.” Buffy eyes filled up as Spike explained all this and she could tell he’d kept the worst to himself.

“Where is Willow? She helped me a couple nights ago but then disappeared. I haven’t seen her since she tried cheering me up by wearing ridiculous sunglasses. She on some kind of quest too?”

“Giles set her to cleaning and getting the new house ready. Lucked out that it wasn’t touched in the latest attack.” Spike nodded.

“So what’s the plan? Burn my house down for the insurance?” Her laugh sounded bitter and unbelieving.

“Um, maybe we should just concentrate on getting you back to your fighting weight.”

“I don’t know. I'm pretty spry for a coma patient.” She made her point with another swift beheading, this time an over-muscled vampire.

“And here I thought you wanted a fight. A challenge.”

Buffy didn’t appreciate his mocking her like that. “You can’t even hit me without getting a ground-kissing migraine.”

“Got me there, you should fight them then.” Spike pointed to a herd of demons coming their way.

Buffy rolled her eyes when she saw how many there were. A fight was one thing, and a battle would still be better than this. It looked more like a war coming toward her. “Great.”

* * *

Giles used a pair of crutches to get around the kitchen. The food in the refrigerator had gone bad, but he managed some tea without trouble. He’d just taken a seat on the single remaining stool when Xander walked in, a dram left in the bottle hanging from his fingers. “Where’d S-Spike go?”

“Dawn sent him to look after Buffy.”

“So,” Xander belched, “where’s Dawn?”

Giles sighed, putting his cup down, and taking his glasses off. “We should call around before we panic.”

“On it.” Xander picked up the receiver. “It’s dead.”

“Of course it is.” Giles stood with his crutches. “We should leave a note for Buffy and Spike before we head out to search for her. We’ll have to go on foot.”

“Why? I’ve got a car.”

“Because you’re drunk and I can’t drive while missing a leg yet.” Giles' frustration levels rose into the red zone. “And don’t even think about splitting up. You’d end up in a bar and I’d end up dead for it.”

“That’s ridic-but not dick...um, what was I saying?” Xander downed the last bits from the liquor bottle and walked off muttering. “Oh yeah, Dawn. I’ll get her. Nothing to worry about. I got this.”

Giles tried to call after him and catch up. He tripped in his rush, and his stump hit the ground and busted open some of the stitching. His scream, though loud, didn’t bring Xander back.

* * *

A last second trip to Africa meant being at the airport at three in the morning. They would have a lot of layovers, but it got them to where they needed to be faster than waiting two weeks for a more direct flight.

Tara’s mouth was a dried up swamp. “I’ve never been on a plane.”

“Well then you get to run the gamut. This trip will put you on four types of planes before we have to hop a ride from some hopefully non-murderous non-thieving guide that’ll get us a day closer to our destination. And we’ll still have to cross some rough terrain on foot.” Anya paused long enough to check their tickets. “The locals will give us a hard time. Then we only have to worry that Clay will put us through trials meant to kill us rather than give us any useful information. And if we live, the information only has a fifty/fifty chance of helping us.” Anya looked at Tara and saw her paler lift. “Still nervous?”

“Um, grateful that we might die sooner rather than later.”

Anya flashed a huge smile. “Glad I could help.”

“Can I just go back to Willow?” Tara asked as their flight got called to board.

“The same Willow that you can’t even touch?”

Tara nodded, determination coursing through her. “Right. We have two souls to save.”

“We’re doing the right thing, Tara. Nothing that takes you all the way to Clay is a quest for no reason. There’s information we need. He might have it. Go us for bravery!” Anya lifted her hand and Tara raised her eyebrow. “You’re supposed to slap my hand for encouragement and a show of solidarity.”

“Oh, a high five.” Tara slapped her palm against Anya’s. “Go us.”

“I wonder who I can bribe for a decent inflight movie.” Anya looked around the airport with bright eyes, hoping to find her query. Tara shot her stealthy glances as they boarded, amazed at Anya’s strange apathetic empathy.


	8. Chapter 8

“Giles!” Dawn rushed into the kitchen from the back porch to his side, grabbing a towel on the way to press against his stump. “What happened?”

“We, ah, thought you’d gone missing again. Xander left to look for you, ugh, I tried to catch up to him.” Giles panted as the pressure Dawn put on his stump flooded his body with excruciating pain.

“You only popped four stitches. Want me to sew you back up?” Dawn asked as she peeked at the wound.

“Do we have an unused suture kit?” Giles asked.

“I think we have two left. Hold this in place while I get one.” Once Giles held the towel in place on his own, Dawn rushed to the hall closet, pulled down the giant med pack, and got what turned out to be the last suture kit. “I should have stolen a few more when I had the chance.”

With the wound only damp with blood now, Dawn got him stitched in a matter of minutes. She waited for him to regain his composure before talking again. “Got any ideas on how to get you to the couch?”

Giles pushed himself to a seated position. “Just hand me my crutches. I think I remember how to use them to stand from when I sprained my ankle when I was eleven.”

Dawn did as she was told and helped keep Giles from falling again as he pulled himself up. “Xander’s probably found a bar willing to serve him, so why don’t we get some z’s.”

“Sleep sounds like a wonderful idea. Could you get me some water and my pills?” Giles set off toward the boarded up living room.

“Already got them.” She shook the pill bottle and the water bottle as she followed him.

Sitting on something as low as the couch proved more difficult than getting off the floor had been. It was more of an ungainly fall truth be told. He caught his breath and then studied Dawn as he took his pain medication. Despite the torn black clothes and thick makeup, he still saw the child underneath. “Thank you, Dawn.”

“You’re welcome.” She disappeared down the hall again and returned with a cot, pillow, and sleeping bag. “They destroyed everything in my room, so I’m just going to sleep in here with you. Which is good because if you need anything, I’ll be right here to help and stuff.”

* * *

The sun threatened as Willow fell onto the couch sore from a night full of interior decorating. Cleaning had been the easy part, but getting rid of the peeling wallpaper in the living room took her hours of nonstop elbow grease. She didn’t want to risk using magic and drain her reserve. Willow felt herself nourishing Buffy every second. 

“Only five rooms to go.” Willow sighed as her demonic tissue worked out the kinks faster than she expected. “I’m not sure I like the no need for sleep thing. Talk about a mental suck.”

Feeling the need to move, Willow rolled to her feet. “Which room to work on next? Duh, can’t live without a kitchen.”

* * *

“Here again?” Spike couldn’t believe he’d gotten stuck in that dilapidated church again. The horde of demons were trying to bust down the door. Buffy gathered barricade materials and when she finished they were safe as houses. 

“How’s the stomach wound?” Buffy asked now finished with the blockade.

“Might need a drink before I can fight again, but I’ll survive.” Spike sighed as he sprawled out on the floor. “The reinforced steel side door should hold for at least a few hours if the demons even bother to look there. This bunch didn’t seem to be gifted with an overabundance of brains, so I doubt we even need to worry.” He coughed then groaned. “Bleeding stomach wounds.”

“My tradition of bad puns is alive and kicking I see.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind. Just lay there and bleed. I’ll see if there’s any way I can get reinforcements. These demons don’t seem to have your sun allergy. And even if you were in any condition to fight, the two of us aren’t enough.”

Spike watched her leave the vestibule, his dead heart in his throat. No matter how cool he’d tried to play it, he still loved her more than anyone or anything he ever had before. Not even if his mother and Drusilla were morphed into one person could he love them as much as he loved Buffy. Mm that thought came out sounding not how he meant it. Despite her comments, Spike never wanted to sleep with his mother. He still heard Buffy’s footfalls when he remembered something helpful. “There’s a lavatory if you need it.”

Buffy heard him and sent a silent thank you to whatever higher power or powers were looking over her. She found the bathroom and saw the reason he mentioned it. A large window, hidden from the outside by foliage might be a way to get out and gather the troops, few though they may be. After using the facilities, she opened the window and slipped out. A foreign sense of guilt for leaving Spike behind pricked at her as she made her way clear of the non humanoid demons. 

As she walked through town, Buffy couldn’t help but notice the number of buildings that looked like they’d been abandoned for months, and not just since the Hellion attack. Grimy boarded up windows were at every turn. Cars on cinder blocks stripped down to their frames. For sale or condemned signs were plastered on more doors than not. Willow’s parents’ house had been burnt to the ground leaving scorched earth and gravel. 

“Oh my god.” That house with all the pets she’d always tried to avoid walking past because they woke up the neighborhood if she got too close now smelled of carrion. A decaying dog carcass in the yard. 

“It is terrible.” What started as a disembodied voice coalesced into a nondescript woman in front of Buffy. “This town needs rebuilt. I want you to help me do it, Slayer.”

“Why should I?” Buffy asked as her fist wafted right through the non-corporeal woman.

“Because if there’s no town here, the Hellmouth is even more susceptible to being opened. I doubt you want that to happen.” 

“You aren’t the First are you?” Buffy felt stupid for needing to ask, but didn’t know what else to do.

“My name is Edith, and I have the distinct advantage of being able to touch. Something the First cannot do.” She reached out and touched Buffy’s shoulder, firm but unthreatening. “I also have the fortune of some precognitive abilities. I see what is, and what may be. I see that you are unhappy with your situation. Not just because of the town’s decay, but because you have been ripped away from bliss. I believe that having a purpose makes a life worth any sacrifice or suffering we endure. I’d like to give you such purpose. A more sure purpose than you’ve ever had before.”

“No offense but I need more than just your word that you aren’t some evil-a-thingy. And I’ve got to get help.”

“If you mean the demons threatening your vampire friend. I can get rid of them. I will be right back.” The woman dematerialized. And with a shrug Buffy double timed it home.

* * *

Buffy got through the door and found Giles and Dawn sleeping in the living room, but more than that, Spike was laying on the floor in the dining room with Edith standing over him.

“You should get him some blood. It will help him heal. The demons died when they got into the church. That much focused consecration turned them into mud puddles.” Edith disappeared before Buffy could question her.

“I had questions you know!” Buffy whisper yelled toward the ceiling. With a humph, she looked for blood for Spike. The kitchen fridge needed a funeral, but she found some in the downstairs one. The microwave was also dead, so she opened the container and set it next to his face. His forehead got bumpy, and he attacked the cold blood out of control until he’d ingested, or whatever happened to the blood once he put it in his mouth, all of it.

Spike shook off his demon, turned on his side, and fell asleep. 

“I guess no one’s going to answer my questions.” Buffy sat down in the corner after covering the window with a table cloth. She leaned her head back, and before she knew it, fell asleep.

* * *

Xander woke up in the drunk tank with a dozen other men and promptly fell back asleep. There was nothing here to stay awake for.

* * *

“I know airlines are cursed and all, but no one deserves Multiplicity two flights in a row,” Anya said as the movie started.

Tara giggled. “The JFK airport was interesting at least.”

“Nothing is interesting enough to make up for this crappy movie.” Anya propped her pillow against the window. “Sleep sounds like a much better use of our time. And at least you can lean back since there’s no one seated behind you.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” Tara leaned her seat back and fake yawned.

“If we have to watch a Michael Keaton movie, why can’t it at least be Mr. Moooooom?” The last word stretched out as Anya yawned. Moments later she snored, and Tara put on her headphones and straightened her seat. She liked Multiplicity, and with Anya sleeping, Tara could watch it this time.


	9. Chapter 9

The smell of paint hit Xander, Buffy, Giles, Dawn and Spike as the entered the Victorian style house. The living room reeked of the stuff, and Spike could tell the entire house had gotten a fresh coat that day. “Doesn’t she sleep?”

“I was wondering quite the same thing,” Giles said as he hobbled past Spike to the couch.

“There’s no way Willow did all this by herself,” Xander said as he looked through the downstairs rooms. “Criminy, she even painted the baseboards and trim. I should hire her at the site for the finishing touches.”

“I thought she had two jobs.” Buffy sat on the couch next to Giles. “How did she have time to do anything?”

“I enlisted help,” Willow said as she came into the room. “Software Waves expects both the first person shooter puzzle game, and the updated word processor by the end of the month, and Program Box wants to make sure their tax software is bug free by the end of the week. So while I worked on that, I got some help from the demons that owed us for keeping the town from being overrun by worse demons. A few neighbors helped as well with the promise of extra protection.”

“Okay, will someone please give me a more detailed explanation of what happened around here? I was in a coma for four months how does the town go from picturesque to slum in that time?”

Xander rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The attacks were slow at first. Some demon gangs came through, set a few fires and broke some windows but were easy to get rid of, still we couldn’t kill them all. We didn’t have the manpower. And word got out that the Hellmouth was unprotected. Before you showed up, Wilkins kept the town running smoothly on the demon end of things, but with him barbequed, and you… not around, we were easy pickings.”

Dawn took a breath and looked at Buffy with sympathy. “And the attacks got bigger, and people stopped wanting to rebuild. I mean why would they when the next attack might be worse?”

“After a while, the only people left in town were the ones that couldn’t afford to move away. The locals don’t have blinders on anymore, and the only business that still thrived here was the Magic Box. We were selling a great deal of protection spells. Though my understanding is that it didn’t survive the latest attack.” Giles cleaned his glasses. “We don’t even have a proper market. Groceries are bought at those overpriced corner stores.”

“We’ve been attacked by at least twelve different demonic species en masse. The Hellions, while the latest and cost us Scoobies the most personally, wasn’t the worst attack we’ve had as a town.” Willow pushed her sunglasses up her nose. 

“No the worst were the those bone eaters that cut a swath,” Spike said as he left to get some blood. Red would have stocked up for him and he was right.

“Let’s not talk about the bone eaters, k?” Dawn said sounding small and childish. “I still have nightmares and that was over two months ago.”

“And no one came to help? No government spooky platoon, not Faith, not the Council?” Buffy asked still not comprehending how this much damage happened unchecked.

“Riley’s group came, but they got killed off taking out the demons we’re not talking about.” Dawn looked at Willow for support.

“If it weren’t for them, we’d have all died.” Willow sat on the arm of the chair Dawn was slouched in and stroked her hair in comfort. “They took out so many that the rest weren’t much of an issue.”

“The Council neglected to get involved since they heard about how powerful Willow had gotten. They’re not overly fond of witches they can’t control.” Giles cleared his throat. “And Faith wasn't ready to leave prison.”

“We’ve done the best we could, Buffy,” Xander said as he realized that leaning against the wall meant getting periwinkle paint on his shirt. He gave up trying to pick it off after less than five seconds and just took off the shirt and sat on the ottoman, his uncovered arms getting goosebumps and his t-shirt not doing much to insulate his torso. 

“So Edith was right then?” Buffy asked her anger heating her flesh. “That without a town the Hellmouth is more susceptible to anyone wanting to pop the cap off it?”

“Who’s Edith?” Giles furrowed his brow as Buffy stammered.

“I figured, I assumed, I thought you guys already knew. But you don’t, do you? Okay we’ll be getting down with the big research here in a minute. She was this creepy thing I couldn’t touch, but she could touch me, so not the First. She wanted me to work with her to restore the town, saying that without the town, the Hellmouth would be easier to get to and open. I don’t know if she’s evil or not.”

Spike said, “Not a common name these days. But once upon a time Ediths were a dime a dozen. Might make finding information on the bird a bit difficult. Did any of the books even survive?”

“All the books from the loft survived. I shelved them in the library. That’s what we have instead of a dining room.” Willow got up to show them. “The table’s big enough for all of us to use at once, and we can still eat in here if we want. The pantry’s got what was left of the magic supplies from the shop.”

“So, Willow?” Buffy said as she picked a tome off the shelf. “What’s with the Corey Hart look?”

“Oh you know, gotta keep track of the visions in my eyes.” Willow laughed it off as she grabbed Spike and dragged him out of the library.

“Can’t wait to get your hands on my hot tight body, can you Red?”

“Stuff if Spike. I need you to cover for me while I grab a bite. I feel like crap and keeping the glamour up isn’t helping either.”

He noticed she didn’t call him Yellow this time and his brow creased. “You need a full meal then. Try suckering in some of the more wretched demons that hang out at Willy’s. Few have come up against a succubus, and wouldn’t even know what you are.”

Willow shook her head. “I’ve already done that. I don’t want to keep going to Willy’s, or else eventually someone will catch on.”

“There's the Fish Tank. You’ll find some demons passing as human there usually. Just have to know what to look for.”

Another shake of her head. “Burned down in the Hellion attack.”

“Then they’ve all probably migrated to the Bronze. Especially with the strip closed down.” There was an unusual pull towards the witch, and Spike made a mental note to not stand this close to her anymore. Her demon could pull him in and suck him to ash, and he wouldn’t stand a chance. “So go get your suction on before the two of you die.”

With a nod, Willow left the house, not knowing where she would stay tonight. Giles made it clear she couldn’t live with them. So where would she go?

* * *

After returning from the alley where she syphoned her third vampire, Willow was almost sated. One more would do the trick. While she hunted for her next victim, she caught sight of Xander sitting at the bar drinking, and flirting with a girl. She marched up to him, as she put her sunglasses on, and tapped him on the shoulder none too gently. “Xander Lavelle Harris!”

He turned to her, “Oh shit. Hey! Willow! What are you doing here?”

“Patrolling. Something I can see you aren’t doing given the whiskey in your hand.” Her hands on her hips and her foot tapping screamed that he was in past the ‘oh shucks’ routine.

He slammed the glass on the bar. “I needed a drink. Not a huge surprise after I find out you duped me into ripping our best friend out of heaven. Heaven! What gives you the right to make that decision? How could you do that to her? To all of us?”

The girl he’d been flirting with backed away. And Willow took her place next to Xander. “And you’re flirting with some girl while your fiance is out there risking her life? Xander, this isn’t who you are. You aren’t your dad, so get your head out of your ass and act like a human being.”

“You know Anya left me, I owe her nothing. And well at least I'm human. Something you aren’t anymore.” At her stunned expression, he continued, “I’ve known you since kindergarten. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? Contrary to popular belief, I’m not drunk every second of the day. Now excuse me, but I don’t think I want to be around something wearing my best friend’s face.”

Willow watched him storm off, and the bartender touched her hand. “Someone has to pay your friend’s bill.”

“He’s not my friend.” She pulled away, anger and hurt roiling under the surface, and began her hunt anew.

* * *

“How long are we going to be here?” Tara asked as she looked around the Sharijah International Airport. She felt out of place by not wearing a hijab.

Anya handed her a large opulent silk scarf. “We’ll be here for about six hours, but we need to conserve funds. Xander’s drained my primary bank account. I had to switch to my backup account, and that’s a bit slimmer than I’d like already.”

“And we’ve already used up everything I had. So what do we do in the meantime?” Tara wrapped the scarf around her head in the best simulacrum of what she’d seen on other women there. 

“We people watch.” Anya put on her scarf without effort. They sat down on a bench. “We watch the people and try to discern what their lives are like from what we see of them.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Tara scanned the few people there at this off hour. She saw a woman and small child hurrying by. “What about them?”

“She’s stealing her child away from her abusive husband.” Anya pointed to the man trying to sell some kind of herb. “Him?”

“Selling pot?” Tara asked.

“Unlikely. You don’t know much about the region do you?”

“I was supposed to take Intro to Middle Eastern Studies next semester. My family wasn’t exactly gracious about anyone different than them, so… I know little.” Tara watched the people come and go, finding herself more curious than ever about how they lived. She’d always found culture, all cultures, fascinating. She’d decided just before Glory took over her life that she’d be an anthropologist. She had no idea if she’d get to do that now, given she’d drained all her school savings between keeping the house going and now this trip.

“Well, I used to get a lot of business here when I was a demon back in the day. For a while things looked up, but then the Taliban took over and they fell socially back into the dark ages and business boomed here again. But, you might be surprised about how much science know-how comes from around here.” Anya talked about the area for the entire six hours, answering all Tara’s questions, and going into not only the human history but the demon one. This rejuvenated Tara’s motivation to get into anthropology. There were ways to go to school even if you didn’t have the savings. Tara vowed to look into them when they got back.

“And you know how Frishiak demons can be. They’re all oozing pus as a way to communicate. Like the desert isn’t dirty enough, but no they have to make it more dirty. But their war with the Krishiak demons who are all oozing slime adding to the mess, exterminated both their kind from the planet. I think there might be a few left on Mars, but I’m not sure. And who knows about farther out.” It was a good thing Anya loved to talk while Tara absorbed things like a sponge. It made the trip a lot easier on both of them.


	10. Chapter 10

Giles had more issues seeing than he’d imagined he’d have. He knew it would be stressful, but he found the lack of depth, headache inducing. After knocking over his glass of water on a seven thousand year old scroll, and a five hundred year old book off the table breaking the binding apart, within a minute of each other, he’d excused himself to his room on the other side of the kitchen. Buffy and Spike could take care of Dawn and research this Edith character.

“Are you sure this one isn’t her?” Dawn asked after showing Buffy the twenty-third Edith she’d found a sketch of.

“Sorry.” Buffy returned to the book in front of her hoping this one would have the answer but she’d been getting more and more anxious as the night wore on. Nervous energy pumped through her and she didn’t think she could sit still any longer. “How’s Xander been handling patrolling with just Willow lately?”

Spike turned the page of what amounted to an otherworldly mug book. “They don’t patrol together. Xander goes to whatever bar will serve him while Willow patrols. The usual is she takes the brightly lit areas while I take the cemeteries and what not. Since the only reason to patrol the dark areas is to catch the baddies on their way to bed, it’s not as important. But we need to find out about this not corporeal corporeal woman, sooner rather than later here I am with you.” He’d been watching Buffy out of the corner of his eye all night and he noticed every kill Willow made, four in total. Buffy glowed with the energy Willow sent her. Her skin pinked up, and she went from dragging to electrified in three hours. “Want to spar? Even if Willow hasn’t gotten to the basement, we could have a moonlit go at it.”

“Patrol sounds better.” Buffy stood up and stretched her limbs. “I know we need to figure out who Edith is but if I look at one more drawing I'll go cross-eyed. You coming?”

“Can’t leave the Nibblet and Giles by themselves. Not all nasties need an invite.” Spike stood up. “You should stay here with your li’l sis, the Watcher, and these books. I’ll patrol tonight and tomorrow we’ll work out a better system.”

“You can protect them can’t you? I need to get out before I burst.” Buffy talked as she walked out the door.

Spike watched her go with strained jaw and neck muscles, but schooled his expression when he turned back to Dawn. “You learnt that location spell Willow wanted you to, yeah?”

“Yeah. I mastered that a month ago. Who am I looking for?” Dawn asked as she got up and opened the pantry to get supplies.

“Willow. Can’t have big sis running into her can we?”

“That would be a disaster. Willow without the glamour doesn’t look much like Willow and if Buffy attacked her… do we even know what would happen if Willow got that hurt? To Buffy I mean?” She pulled the ingredients she needed and laid them on the table. 

“Nothing good.” Spike helped Dawn set up what she needed since he was familiar with the spell.

“I’ll get the alarm ready too.” Dawn went back to the pantry when Spike nodded in agreement. 

Once the spells were done, Spike headed to the Magic Box, where Dawn located Willow’s essence. He found her in the loft with some salvaged couch cushions, throwing a crystal ball in the air and catching it as she lay on her back.

“What do you want Spike?”

“To get you somewhere Buffy isn’t likely to go. She’s patrolling right now and if she gets a bit nostalgic when she walks by here, we don’t want her seeing you au naturel.” He held his hand out to her but then thought twice about it and took two steps back. “Should train you up anyway.”

“Don’t you think that’s too risky? Touching me is dangerous enough, but if I got hold of you, and you could get me off this time, you’d be dust.” She stood up with more grace than any creature he’d ever seen. 

“Seems I like a challenge more than a sure win, so let’s give it a go. See if you’re as easy as I think you’ll be.”

“You know I kill anyone I touch for more than a second or two and there’s a way not to do that. I could, uh, you know… demons could survive, humans never could. But I can’t bring myself to do that. That’s too far from who I am.” With her glamour completely down, Spike could see her emotions ripple under her glossy white skin. Little waves of color that his enhanced vision picked up with ease. Humans would be affected on an unconscious level. 

“Willow? You’re a smart bird. Haven’t you figured out that sex is a need and there’s nothing to be ashamed of with that need? That people who shame you for being sexual just want to repress you? I was born in the bleeding Victorian era and I know it. How is it that you haven’t figured it out and you live now?” Spike stuck his hands in his pockets, pulled out a pocket Kama Sutra, and tossed it at her. “You need to get used to the idea that you need sex more than most others. You literally need it to survive if you don’t want to kill so much. And not just for you but Buffy too. I will not let you ruin her because of your prudishness.”

“I think I’d rather train right now.” She tossed the book back to him. 

“Then let’s get a move on. There’s one place Buffy would never look, and I know it’s empty.” Spike started down the stairs.

When Willow followed, she said, “Your old crypt?”

“And that’s all you’ve used your big brain for tonight, figuring out the obvious? For shame, pet.”

“Sorry Spike but I’ve never killed with my bare hands before. Even if it’s just evil demons and vampires, it feels wrong, like I’m betraying them, betraying me, and everyone I care about too. But it’s a rush at the same time. And sometimes I have a craving for a human. Haven’t acted on that, but the urge is there. That scares me to death, and it’s a bit busy in the noggin these days.”

“Would you believe me if I said, I know what you’re going through?” He held the back door open for her.

“No.”

“I swear that head of yours is filled with all the wrong information. You might be able to remember the things you read, but knowing when you’ve been fed bunk information seems outside your wheelhouse.” He shook his head as she scowled at him before they headed to the crypt.

* * *

The big yellow demon punched Buffy in the face again without her even trying to block it. The pain and blood, affirmation of life. She needed that proof a bit more tonight than she had last night. But she’d had enough and chopped its head off with a single stroke.

Since waking from the coma, Buffy knew something dark had curled inside her body and brain, and made her its home. She didn’t feel anything, and while she knew how to make her eyes wrinkle when she smiled, she didn’t feel it. And she didn’t feel it when she forced amusement at something she knew she’d find cute before, but didn’t anymore. 

“That won't help you.” The voice sounded like wind tangled in chimes.

“Edith. What would you know about it?” Buffy marched away but Edith appeared in front of her and Buffy thinking she could walk right through ended up on her ass when she collided into Edith. Edith’s eyes looked at her like that old doll Buffy had when she was six. Eyes that seemed to both not see anything but also saw everything they shouldn’t at the same time. Those eyes gave her chills just as much now with Edith as when she was six and her mother had passed down that creepy abomination of a toy.

“I know more about it than you think. I only just got released from a prison of sorts. So mind your manners with me, please. We’ve both dealt with hell at the whim of someone else. I’m just looking out for you. I want you to have the peace you deserve. To sleep easy because the world is safe. Safe like that place lied and said already existed here. Told you that your friends and family were okay when they weren’t.” Edith held her hands clasped in front of her in a way that suggested she was reciting like children did in those old movies. “I will never lie to you, and I will always tell you the exact nature of what’s in your stars. We’ll navigate those waters together.”

“And then what? Sit and have tea?” Buffy got to her feet and brushed the grass off her backside.

“I don’t like tea anymore. Had my fill for a lifetime, I’m afraid.” Edith faded for a moment before once again appearing solid. “Shall we begin?”

“I still don’t know if I can trust you.” Buffy walked around Edith this time and kept going, ignoring the being calling after her.. She continued to ignore Edith, even as she attempted to block her path again. Buffy walked around her once more determined not to interact with the being until they knew who or what Edith was. 

Buffy’s resolve held until Edith called out, “Willow brought you back from the dead. The others helped, but it was Willow. She knew you might be in heaven, and she brought you back despite that. She decided that they needed a Slayer more than you needed peace.”

“What did you say?” Buffy turned and scrutinized Edith with her bologna curls and lace trimmed dress. “Willow wouldn’t do that.”

“But she would and she did. Sacrificed her humanity since you’d been dead for four months. She’s a demon now. No human could withstand more than a few seconds of her touch and she takes on bits and pieces of those she kills while passing that energy on to you. To keep you here full of life and whole of body, she feeds every night. She made that sacrifice to rip you out of the peace of the seventh ring of heavenly dimensions.” Edith sounded like Alice from the Disney cartoon, scolding a Wonderland creature for not making sense.

“Willow would never do that.” Buffy walked away again but a wall of Ediths blocked her path.

“I can prove it. Go to Spike’s old crypt, she’s there training with him, learning how to harness her demon strength and how to live like a demon.” The Ediths disappeared slowly, their doll eyes the last to disappear.

As if fate decided for her, Buffy was already in the right cemetery and the walk to Spike’s crypt took no time at all.

* * *

“Stop lollygagging, Tara. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” Anya was getting annoyed with her own voice. She hated sounding like this, but Tara had never been on a hike longer than a mile before, and they had to get through a lot more before making it to Clay, the next demonic stop in their quest.

“Couldn’t the driver have gotten us closer?” Tara asked as she tried to keep up with Anya’s brisk stride.

“Looks like they’re keeping even more of a distance than before, and considering Clay’s not exactly friendly, I don’t blame them. The only people we’ll see from here out will be his subjects.” Anya stopped to take a sip from her canteen.

“Subjects?” Tara asked.

“Clay keeps the bodies and souls of the ones that don’t pass the trials. Locked in his domain for eternity, desperate for escape they have no hope of ever getting. They’re not decaying or anything but they’ll try to warn us off. Won’t touch us though. They aren’t able to touch anyone without decaying and that’s a hell no one will risk. So hurry. The sooner we get this over with the better.” Anya walked even faster now.

“But Clay sounds like such a nice name. Like an old man with paper skin and a warm smile for every,” Tara tripped, “one.”

“His name isn’t Clay. He’s just made of clay so that’s what I’ve been calling him for a millennia.”

As Tara got to her feet, she said, “Do you think that might be why he doesn’t like you?”

“Well I had to call him something, didn’t I? Pretentious bastard thinks he’s above being named.”

Anya was so far ahead now, Tara had to yell to be heard. “Can we not call him Clay when we see him? And is there any way we can skip seeing him altogether?”

“If the Loa sent us here, then it’s too important to skip. And I just hope he doesn’t send us to Skip. Getting all the pieces to get into his dimension would be impossible.” Anya waited for Tara to catch up.

“There’s a demon named Skip? Can we see him instead. He has to be nicer than Clay.” Tara gasped for air as she looked over the rough terrain. 

“Skip’s agendas run deep and crossing him is worse than failing Clay’s trials. I don’t like the idea of being on literal fire till the end of time, do you? Hopeless is better than hopeless and on fire.” Anya could see the pools of sweat all over Tara’s clothes. “We’ll take a fifteen minute break under that tree, but we can’t waste too much time. We only have so much in supplies.”

“Clay it is. But we aren’t calling him that. Please?” Tara fell to the ground as soon as she felt the shade. 

“I promise I won’t call him that.” Anya sighed as she sat next to Tara. “Save your strength and stop talking so much. It’ll keep your mouth from drying out as fast and you’ll be able to walk longer.”

“Why don’t you have that problem?”

“Over a thousand years of walking. Demon or no, I had to stay in shape for the cases that landed me on a long journey to get the wish. Now shut up.” Anya handed Tara some water and when Tara looked like she would thank her, Anya said, “Zip it.”


	11. Chapter 11

The grunting sounded vulgar and sexual at first, but then Buffy heard a pain-filled scream. Willow was in pain, so Buffy burst through the door. But the redhead didn’t look like Willow. Buffy saw a demon with skin that looked like lightbulb glass, and eyes that were deep pools drawing her into colorful lightning, making heat flow to her groin. Then sunglasses broke the spell, and it was Willow standing there.

“Didn’t expect you to get nostalgic for this old place, Slayer.” Spike used his cast aside shirt to wipe off some of the dirt on his chest and face.

“Tell me it isn’t true!” Buffy tried to get close to Willow, but it was like she’d drown in the demon so she stepped away. Her shoulders tensed when no denial came, and tears threatened. “Please tell me you didn’t bring me back from the dead. Tell me you didn’t rip me out of heaven.”

“Slayer.” Spike put on his shirt and stepped in front of her. Now that he had her attention, he said more gently, “Buffy, we thought you were in hell. Glory wanted to go back to her dimension, one of the badder hell dimensions.” He glanced at the frown on Willow’s face. “No one meant to hurt you. We thought we were helping you.” He whispered reaching out for her.

Buffy let him hold her trembling shoulders. “I don’t know what’s real. Did that demon make me hallucinate or should I be in one of those other worlds? Should I be with Mom and Dad? Or should I be in a violent relationship instead? Is this real? Or am I stuck in a different unreality? This can’t be real. Willow wouldn’t do that. She’s supposed to be my best friend. She’d never do that. How could she do that?”

Buffy collapsed on the dusty floor, and Spike followed her down. He held her while she sobbed, and he heard Willow leave. He’d have to talk to demon Red about this later. If she did this on purpose, then he'd hurt her, but he had a hard time believing she would.

In the end, Buffy cried herself to sleep, and he had to carry her home. He found her room easily enough. Willow had made it as close to Buffy’s old room as possible, minus the posters. He lay Buffy down, took off her boots, and covered her up. When he heard the front door, he hoped it was Willow. He wanted that confrontation over with, but it was only Xander stumbling in drunk.

Spike walked down the stairs and found Dawn still in the library. “Any luck, Bit?”

“Wouldn’t know. Without Buffy to confirm, it could be any of these or none of them.” She gestured to the array of books open to woodcuts, lithographs, sketches, and photos of a variety of Ediths.

One caught his attention. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“Just looks vaguely familiar is all.” He sat down and kept the trend of playing things straight with the girl. “We need to talk.”

“What’s wrong?” Dawn saw by the set of his shoulders and the way his jaw twitched that he wasn’t giving her good news.

“Buffy knows, and I doubt you’ll see Willow for a while.” Spike tried to hold her hand but she got up and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Why does everyone leave? Dad left. Mom died. Buffy died. Tara and Anya may never come back from that quest. Xander’s always drunk. Willow won’t be coming around. Giles can’t even glance at me without being on the verge of tears. All my friends are dead or left town. Buffy’s back, but she doesn’t seem all the way here either. And I know it’s not me, but it feels like it is.” Her eyeliner and mascara streaked down her cheeks.

Spike got up and wrapped his arms around her. His job was taking care of the Scoobies these days. And whoever heaped that responsibility on him needed their head examined. He stroked Dawn’s hair while he sang some old jazz song to her. That one she listened to over and over when she tried to comfort herself, Night and Day.

From the next room, Giles listened to it all. He didn't know what he could do for the children when his phantom leg hurt so much. And even when he managed to ignore that, his face hurt. And every now and again, his arm demanded his attention. What help was he to them when he couldn’t even read a book? He found the scotch Willow had left for him and retired to his room with it. After a swig used to wash his pain killers down, his limbs loosened.

Looking at his stump, he sighed. He pulled the business card a nurse gave him out of his wallet and put it on the nightstand. He’d call about a prosthetic and physical therapy in the morning. He needed to take care of his child soldiers to the best of his ability, and he couldn’t do that on crutches and blind. They needed him, and he promised himself he’d be up to the task.

* * *

The rock skidded down the street passing two stop signs after Willow kicked it. As if the not sleeping needed to suck even more, Willow's stomach gnawed, refusing her a moment of peace… Buffy knew. Willow was guilty enough after she found out that her coin toss came out tails, and she’d taken Buffy from heaven. But now Buffy either already knew or would know soon that Willow had made this huge sacrifice to do it. She never wanted to do that to her best friend. But after the bone eater attack, her mind focused on Riley dying, and he’d died saving Tara. Without that extra help, what if something worse came along? What if Tara got hurt? Or worse killed? Or even worse than that? There was always worse. The pit of worsedom never had a bottom and it would never get one either.

She knew why Tara had been pulling away. After Glory took her sanity, Willow knew that some part of Tara resented being in Glory’s line of fire. Willow didn’t want to push Tara, so she gave her space But after four months it looked like there was no such thing as enough of it. Between the inevitable event of Tara leaving her, and worrying about Tara’s safety, she made the decision. And no matter how awful things were for Buffy, Willow would do it again.

The only difference would be, she’d go on that quest instead of Tara. By the time Willow knew where Tara and Anya had gone, it was too late. Those that take the first step of a quest were the ones that had to see it to the end. There was no tagging someone else in. Terrified that Tara wouldn’t make it, Willow's eyes burned as they stained her cheeks blue.

“There’s gotta be some kind of fitting punishment.” Something to make her feel better, feel some kind of atonement, or better yet nothing at all.

Oh, Goddess how she wanted sleep.

* * *

For the last eight hours, Tara and Anya had slept just outside the entrance to Clay’s cave. But they woke with the first rays of the sun. Tara whispered to Anya, “It’s time.”

“I know.” Anya got up and rolled their sleeping bags up while Tara stuffed their supplies into their packs. They stashed them behind a prickly bush. With one look they held hands and entered the cave.

“Anyanka, you seek me out after castration? What makes you think I’ll entertain your request?” The voice echoed off the walls and Tara swallowed her fear. Her gaze glued to the green glowing eyes in front of them while Anya just looked annoyed.

“Because if you want to keep your hold here, you’ll keep up with your end of the bargain you made with the higher powers. You can’t turn away a request unless they fail your trials. So the sooner we start, the sooner it’ll be over.”

“Your request has been made.” His voice faded as the glowing eyes disappeared.

Anya and Tara turned when they heard footsteps behind them. A large shadow loomed but a body never came into view. The two women whipped their heads around as the shadow and the footsteps switched to the other side of them. Then Anya groaned in even more annoyance. “It’s a Hannish demon.”

After picking up a handful of dust, Anya blew it at the shadow, and it disappeared just as it punched Tara in the stomach.

“Oh, well that was easier than I thought.” Tara smiled as she held her stomach.

“That was just the first of the trials.”

“How many are there?”

“Don’t know anyone who’s survived to be able to answer that.” Anya kept her guard up while Tara’s fear ratcheted up to near heart attack levels.

Then they got blindsided with a hurricane.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Intense though not graphic, animal death scene. Spike is a bad bad vampire.

Xander woke up to water dribbling on his face. “What the hell? Is there a leak in the roof?” But when he got his eyes open he saw a pitcher, and a Spike with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Fuck off death breath.”

“A tow truck’s here. They’re repossessing your car. I’d take care of it for you but the driver’s human and then there’s the sun.” Spike laughed as Xander threw on a pair of boxers and rushed out in time to see the back end of his car round the corner.

When Xander realized it as a lost cause, he headed back inside, flipping off a laughing Spike on his way. “Do we have cereal?”

“Supplies are low, and without Willow, we’ve got to make what Giles has left stretch. Get to work and pray they haven’t fired you if you want to eat.” Spike smirked as he picked a kitten out of the bin. “Given the wood you were sporting, I assume you’re missing your bird.”

“That’s gross.” Xander flopped into a chair at the kitchen table. “Dawn hates when you feed that way. I miss Anya more than I’d miss my penis if it fell off, but if that happened she’d mercy kill me, so. And again eating kittens is gross.”

Spike pet the kitten, and baby talked his reply to Xander to it. “And how do you expect me to eat? The hospital barely has enough blood for the patients, I can’t kill anyone, and with no butchers around anymore what do you expect? But we have plenty of stray cats and dogs.” With a smile at Xander’s exaggerated disgust, Spike made sure he was looking when he sunk his fangs into the fur ball.

Xander shut his eyes and covered his ears with a funny look of disgust on his face as the kitten mewled to its last breath. “How can you kill pets?”

Bagging the body for the trash, Spike licked his teeth clean. “Don’t name them and they’re not pets.”

“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.” Xander got up and dragged his feet out of the kitchen.

“So you going to work then?” Spike asked as he followed him.

“You know there’s been no construction in town for nearly two months. The site’s two towns over and I can’t get there on foot.” Xander groaned as he stumbled up the stairs when he realized Spike was still on his heels. “Don’t you and Willow need to start Dawn’s lessons for the day?”

“That’d be difficult since Dawn only fell asleep an hour ago and I believe I mentioned Willow won’t be round anymore.”

“Why not?” Xander asked as he climbed back into bed, tossing the wet pillow away then folding the other in half.

“Buffy found out the truth, and Willow’s a smart enough chit to keep her distance.” Spike’s tone was so casual it took a moment for the words to sink into Xander’s brain.

When they did he bolted up. “Where’s Buffy? Is she okay?”

“She’s sleeping. Let her. Ta now.” Spike whistled as he waltzed out of Xander’s room.

“I fucking hate that monster.” Xander fell back on the bed, but couldn’t get back to sleep after that bomb. “I hope things calm down so I can dust the bastard myself.” He pulled the flask out from under the mattress when his hands shook and chugged it until he felt even again.

* * *

Something felt wrong. Buffy’s spidey senses were tingling. When she found Spike sleeping on the couch, she thought it might just be her vampire radar, but that wasn’t the case.

Dawn ran through the house and stopped short of the kitchen when she saw her sister. “Buffy?”

“Shh, there’s something in the house.” Buffy glared at Dawn when she laughed.

“That’s impossible. I put up an alarm last night. Tara and Willow used the same spell when Glory was after me. If there was a threat there’d be this high pitch screeching noise and flashing lights.” Dawn walked into the kitchen, noticed the bagged kitten in the garbage, and threw a towel over it before taking a breath and looking for something to eat. She hoped for something other than crackers again. “Please tell me Willow went shopping.”

“I hope she did, too.” Buffy opened cupboards in the search of sustenance. Then she hit pay dirt. The entire kitchen pantry overflowed with food. “Head’s up!” She tossed Dawn a box of cereal, happy to see her sister had milk to go with it.

They found the bowls and spoons without trouble and munched on cereal with sugar as the first ingredient.

When Buffy heard the basement door shut, she swallowed the food in her mouth, signaled for Dawn to be quiet, only to be told, “It’s probably Willow getting her stuff. She’s still got three major projects for work to get done. She can’t leave her computer here and get fired, now can she?”

“Shh!” Buffy crept out of the kitchen and glimpsed red hair as it streaked through the yard just outside the window. With a sigh she returned to the kitchen.

“Willow?” Dawn asked through a mouthful of cereal.

“How’d you know?”

“Because everyone’s here, and the alarm would have sounded if there was a threat. Willow’s never been a threat ergo it had to be her.”

Buffy straightened when she realized something Dawn said before they even got to the kitchen. “What do you mean you did the alarm spell? You don’t do magic.”

“Willow and Tara have been teaching me the basics. Things to help keep me safe, but I’ve reached minnow stage. Got past the awkward guppy stage a few weeks ago.”

 

“And you’re using the old swimming levels to measure your skill level. Great. Now I have to fix Willow’s mistakes. You can’t do magic. It’s too dangerous.” Buffy sat at the table again but Dawn got up and threw her dish in the sink.

Dawn turned to Buffy with a mix of hurt and rage in her eyes. “You lost the right to tell me what to do when you jumped off the tower. You can’t give orders when you haven’t been here through the shit we’ve gone through the last four months.” She left Buffy stunned silent in her wake.

“The girl’s right.”

Buffy turned to see Spike, hair tousled from sleep and scratching his neck. “And what could you possibly know about raising a teenage girl?”

“Since I’ve been doing just that for the last four months, I’d say quite a lot.” He opened the bin with the kittens to find it empty. “You let my food go?”

“Ew. They were your food? What happened to the bags of pig’s blood?”

He rolled his eyes before turning to look at her. “I may love you, but you’re being willfully daft right now. Telling Dawn she can’t protect herself and throwing away my food when you’ve seen the town. We’ve told you what happened. Enough that you should know that there aren’t any butcher shops here anymore, and if Dawn can’t protect herself, she’s as good as dead.”

Buffy followed him until he disappeared up the attic stairs. She’d wanted to yell at him and tell him to go to hell, but by the time they made it to the attic door, she realized he was right. And then thoughts of Willow broke her.

* * *

“You’re kidding!” Anya couldn’t contain herself when she heard the answer to their request. “That can’t be worth what we went through. We killed eighteen demons, quelled a hurricane, and grounded a lightning bolt. There’s no way you’re sending us somewhere else. That’s not how you work. You’re supposed to have answers. Now cough ‘em up buddy!”

“I don’t have to answer with what the person thinks they want. I have to answer them with what they need. I do not have what you need. You must ask the demon that spawned the cubare. Find the tomb of Osiris and you will get the information you seek. But be warned that you might not get the answer you want.” And Clay melted into the darkness.

“You’ve always been ass, Clay!” Anya shouted before looking at Tara. “Let’s get our soggy selves out of here.”

Tara winced with every step they squished out of the cave. “He won’t come after us will he?”

“He can’t. We passed the trials, we’ve earned safe passage. And considering we have to go to either England or New Zealand next, let’s get a move on, and get me far away from the bastard before I kill him.”

“Is there a way to find out which is better?”

“Only a guardian of the Well would know. And since they don’t leave that position till they die, I don’t think we stand a chance of finding out ahead of time.” Anya wrung out her hair. “If this weren’t so damn important I’d just go home. Every step of the way, we keep getting sent to things that mean more and more, and we need the answers or questions or whatever. There’s nothing more serious than the Deeper Well and an Old One. I mean, they drilled a hole through the world. With hand tools! They needed to do that in to contain the Old Ones. They play with the world from their freaking tombs. I mean can’t they die like the rest of us?”

“So New Zealand first? It is closer.” Tara said as they returned to the suffocating heat of desert midday.

“They couldn’t even drill a straight line. The Well had to be crooked so there’d be an entrance on both sides.” Anya sucked in a lung-filling breath, held it for a ten count, and then released it. “Yes. New Zealand first.”

Tara smiled when Anya used the technique she’d suggested to calm down, happy it appeared to work.


	13. Chapter 13

Giles sat in the therapist’s office while his new neighbor sat in the waiting room with her knitting needles and her cat patterned shirt. They’d measured his stump and other leg and were getting a prosthetic for him. When they returned, he tried to smile, but he flinched from the cut on his lip. The nurse and physical therapist tried it on him and when they knew it was a fit, they taught him how to get it on and off.

“You’ll need to have sessions with me every day. Can you get here? I noticed you’re from Sunnydale and we’ve had a lot of those patients stop showing up.” Her concerned smile seemed sincere to Rupert, but he couldn’t manage one in return.

“I’ll make it work. What time shall I be here tomorrow?”

“Ten o’clock sound good?” She asked as she picked up a clipboard.

“It sounds fine.” Giles wrapped his take home instructions on care and practice round the rung of his crutches. The prosthetic hindered more than helped at the moment but he refused to remove it, determined to practice at every opportunity. He kept repeating in his mind the names of the children. While technically adults, he knew they were still babes in this world with just as much need for care and guidance. And Dawn was still a child, even technically.

“Cheryl? Can you bring the car round?” He tried harder to smile at her, and it had the effect he was looking for.

She smiled back and said, “Sure thing.”

By the time he hobbled into the house, his eye twitched every time he heard the word cat and he hoped Spike would eat every last one of hers. It’d save them the indignity of her cat sized sweaters and mittens and hats and pants. He rubbed his forehead when the first thing he heard was Spike yelling at Buffy to get him dinner since she let all his cats go. “At least the plan to treat her normally hasn’t been ignored.” When Buffy shrilled back that he had to get his own meals, and not bring them in the house, Giles knew the plan was working. Treating her with kid gloves would only reinforce any ideas she might have about committing suicide. They’d show her that everyone thought her weak and broken if they treated her with too much gentleness. But, he wasn’t sure a yelling match was the answer either.

Spike followed by Buffy stormed into the living room. “Giles tell her that since she’s the reason I don’t have food she needs to replace it.”

Buffy huffed. “If anything he’ll tell you to get your own food. Kill a deer or something. That should last longer.”

“Yes because Sunnydale is rife with deer.” Spike threw up his hands. “You know what. I’ll get my own meals and I’ll just leave all their dead bodies in your bed.” He grabbed a blanket off the couch and used it to brave the sun.

“And yet he still swears he’s in love with me. Does that make any sense?” Buffy flopped onto the overstuffed chair.

“He wouldn’t have gotten that upset if he didn’t. He’d have just found his own meals and left the carcases in your bed without warning.” Giles got two feet past the threshold when Dawn came running through.

“Buffy have you seen my boots? The green thigh high ones?” She paused long enough to kiss Giles on the cheek. “How’s the new leg?”

“Bothersome at the moment but I’ll master its use. That is if I don’t melt it out of frustration first.” Giles tried to look at her the way he had before the attack but sometimes when he saw Dawn all he saw was the Hellion chasing her down until Giles threw himself in its path. And he could feel it all again. The leg getting crushed, the claw that raked through his eye, and then the one through his lip. His arm cracking under the pressure of its boot. It was like he couldn’t even see Dawn anymore. She’d become a faceless screen for him to relive that nightmare. He didn’t want her to suffer because of his trauma, but he didn’t know how to see her again. He felt the loss of his youngest charge as keenly as if she’d died.

Dawn unwrapped the practice instructions from his crutch. “These look easy, but I’m sure that means they’ll be difficult for a while. I’ll help you exercise and work on your walking. Didn’t they say you could walk with no canes or crutches if you got good enough?”

He sat down and busied himself with the belts that kept the metal leg in place even though it was perfectly secure. “They did. And I’ll take all the help I can get.” Giles looked at her left ear and tried to project his gratitude without hurting his mouth.

“Did they say anything about your eye?” Dawn asked as she tugged Buffy’s hair into tiny braids, trying to pull her out of whatever trance she’d fallen into. Buffy batted at Dawn’s hand but that only fortified Dawn’s determination to keep going.

“They said it would take time and deliberate practice. The suggestion was to gauge distance using familiar markers, such as the average size of a book, or a car. Things of that nature should help me judge distance better. They suggested I not try to drive until I have command of depth once more.” Giles wondered why he still wore his glasses since they were half useless.

“Well you have time. You need to figure out your shiny new leg before you can drive again anyway. I need to get some supplies but when I get back, we’ll practice.” Dawn nodded her head and then disappeared into the kitchen to cry. Once she felt she could show her face again, she rushed through the living room asking once more if anyone had seen her boots without waiting for an answer. She found them under the table in the dining library and began the arduous task of lacing them.

Giles watched Buffy, and even with only one working eye he could see she looked tired. “Perhaps you could use a nap?”

Buffy shook her head when the front door slammed behind Dawn on her way out to get her mysterious supplies. “Yeah. You need anything before I lay down?”

“Thank you, Buffy, but I’m fine. Get some rest.” Giles leaned back into the couch cushions, sighing in relief at the quiet only for that peace to be broken by Xander. 

“Hey Giles. Have you seen Spike?”

“He left a few minutes ago.”

Xander raised two sets of crossed fingers. “Here’s hoping he dusts during that sunlit walk.” Then the boy danced toward the kitchen in what looked like a version of Anya’s dance of capitalist superiority.

“Must miss her more than he lets on.”

Just as Giles got comfortable a light feminine voice whispered in his ear. “No time to rest, Mr. Giles. We’ve got a Slayer and town to save.”

He glimpsed what almost looked like a doll before the phantom disappeared. “The mysterious Edith perhaps?” But no one answered him.

* * *

“I’ll be too skinny after this trip.” Tara stopped to catch her breath. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Me neither. That’s not good.” Anya grabbed Tara’s hand and dragged her over the last hill. “The damn guide’s not here. That chickenshit little turd. We’ll have to walk for at least another day to get anywhere close to civilization.”

“Let’s set up the tent and get some rest. My blisters are all broken and bleeding.” Tara sat down and pulled the tent out of her pack.

“Mine too. So yes, we need to rest before we go on. We also need to take care of our feet or we’ll die out here.” Anya sat behind Tara to keep out of her way and got the first aid kit out. “I’ve never been so glad to be a pessimist in my existence. This kit has everything we’ll need, including some magical cures that should at least make tomorrow a little less painful. How’s the water supply?”

“If that river didn’t infect us with anything, we’ve got enough to last another day. Maybe a day and half if we need it to.” Tara put the last of the skeleton together and threaded the canvass over it.

“I made a guy die of thirst once. His wife got so sick of his boozing then beating her, she wished he’d never be able to drink again. She probably meant alcohol, but whatever.” Anya patted her blisters down with the potion she packed and could feel it working already. “Point is, let’s not die of thirst. It’s a crappy way to go.”

“I agree. No dying of thirst. But I’d give my right arm for some food. When was the last time we ate?” Tara forced herself to her feet with a whimper to finish setting up the tent.

“Two days ago, but we’ll be fine. We can live a disgustingly long time without food. Now sit down and let me treat your feet.” Anya poured some potion on another gauze pad while Tara took off her shoes. 

Blood dripped off Tara’s ravaged feet pitter patting in the sand as Anya tried her utmost to help her new best friend. She even cringed in sympathy every time Tara gasped, or cried in pain. 

“We’ll be able to fix everything when we’re done, right?” Tara asked as she dragged herself into the tent, trying to keep her feet off the ground. “It’ll all be worth it right?”

“Of course it will,” Anya lied as she crawled in behind Tara. “They wouldn’t put us through all this if the powers didn’t intend to help us. We’ve got to prove our worth, our mettle. And we’re women, right? From a heritage that’s bore the brunt of history. We can do this, no problem. We survived Clay. We can survive anything. And we’ll go home to a hero’s welcome and save our loved ones.”

When Anya noticed Tara’s breathing changed to sleep breathing, she kissed the woman’s forehead. “I’m glad that I’m going through all this with you. I would’ve killed anyone else by now.”

With a final sigh, Anya curled up on her sleeping bag and was asleep before another thought crossed her mind.


	14. Chapter 14

Willow was so easy to find, Spike knew she had a death wish. “You do know if you die, so does Buffy?”

“I know.” She didn’t look up from her computer. “Let me finish this up and you can yell at me all you want.”

“So the electric’s still working. Huh. Thought some demon or other would have cut that off a long time ago.” Spike sat on the bier next to Willow and waited for her to finish what had her typing so frantically.

“And sent.” She smiled at him. “I’ll be able to get you guys a nice sized check with that one. I’ll get a bonus for fixing the bugs. One wasn’t even a programming issue, but rather someone messed up the tax law about inheritance. They somehow missed that it’s been updated a few times since the fifties.”

“That’s nice.” He slapped handcuffs on her wrists with the ease of a well planned surprise attack. “We need to have a chat.” With a shove, she fell down the hole in the floor of the crypt and landed on her back. “Don’t get too comfy, I’m on my way down and you will not like how I have these types of discussions.”

He dropped and landed an inch from her head. “Got nothing to say?”

“I know what you want to know, but I don’t know if you’ll torture me more or less if I tell you the answer.” Willow didn’t flinch when he hauled her to her feet and threw her over to where he’d had Buffy chained up over a year ago now.

“And that tells me what the answer is. Tells me that you knew she was in heaven when you brought her back.”

“I didn’t know for sure, but I knew I was taking a fifty/fifty chance. But Edith is right about one thing. This town is the only thing standing between apocalyptic demons, and them opening the Hellmouth. And this town was lost without a Slayer here.” She spit out blood after he punched her in the mouth. “Don’t you think I tried everything to find out where she was? And to get some extra help here? No Slayer got called when she died this time. Faith said no. Angel stomped off to brood rather than help out. Said he couldn’t be in Sunnydale if she wasn’t here. Remember when the commandos got slaughtered? That was the last of people equipped to help.”

“Not good enough, Witch.” He kicked her in the gut and sent her flying into the stone wall which cracked on impact.

“You can torture me her entire life if you want. You can torture me for your entire life if you need to. Just take breaks to let me work and eat, all right?”

“You think I’d do anything that would hurt Buffy? Daft bint, you should know better by now.” He stepped on her neck, putting all his weight on it. Only made her grunt, and he had done no real damage yet. “Let’s get to know each other better. You’ve never even seen what I can do when given the right motivation.”

Spike had to give Willow credit, she never begged, and she joked the entire time, continuing calling him Yellow every time he called her Red even when she had trouble catching her breath. Something about her continued use of the nickname, told him that she still trusted him. That she knew he’d take care of her enough that she could keep everyone fed, including providing Buffy with the energy she needed to keep going.

The razor in his hand itched at his fingertips to slice into her again but his fun got cut short when he heard Dawn calling for him and Willow as she opened the crypt door. “Keep your mouth shut.”

“I don’t want Dawn to see me like this. If she ever knew you did this she’d break. Not gonna do that to her.” When Willow went limp, he pressed the key into her hand.

“Go nowhere.” He climbed the stairs in a trice, calling out to Dawn as he went. “What brought you out here, Nibblet?”

“I’ve been looking for you and Willow all over town! Do you know where she is? Buffy didn’t look too good when I left. I thought Willow needed to you know, eat something, to make Buffy better.”

“I got it covered. Just get home before the sun sets. I’ll make sure Willow gets what she needs, so Buffy gets what she needs.” He didn’t let Dawn hug him before she left because his clothes still had fresh blood on them. Invisible to her because they were on black, but if he got any on Dawn, she’d notice with that see through white thing over her black bra.

When he got back down to Willow, he found her laying naked on his bed. Her breathing still labored. “How’d she miss the bloody hands?”

“Probably thought it was cat blood.” He shrugged and stripped down. “Sure you can control yourself?”

“If I don’t feed now, I won’t make it to another meal. Buffy and I will both be dead. Just close your eyes and think of England. Or rather, Buffy.” She tossed him on the bed once he was within reach. When her fingers laced through his hair, Willow faded into Buffy. Her look, feel, smell, sound, and taste.

In that moment she was Buffy and nothing less. He’d forgotten that Willow even existed. And he lived in the bliss of falling asleep with Buffy in his arms. But he woke up to an empty bed with bloodstained sheets. At least it was dark out and he could get home. Punishing Willow worked against what he wanted. He wanted, no needed, Buffy to be all right. And right now that meant making for absolute certain that Willow got fed.

As Spike walked home, the memories of sleeping with Buffy faded, as if it had all been a dream and left him wanting. “Fucking balls.”

“Watch your language, William.”

“You must be Edith. I’m not in need of company so bugger off.” He turned to try to avoid her but found her blocking his path. “It’s not polite to keep someone past their wishes.”

“Do you remember me? We bowed at the feet of the same mistress once. Do you remember? You have to remember.” A gag appeared over her mouth for a flash and then disappeared. Another flash where she was a doll rather than just resembled one.

He scowled at her. “Miss Edith, yeah? Dru’s favorite doll. I should have recognized the dress.”

“Yes, so you know that my premonitions are true. And now that I no longer have to be filtered through Drusilla’s broken mind, I can tell you specifics. Be clear about what’s coming for you. All of you. Please work with me. Help me, help Buffy. She’s the key to saving this town. I see it. I can tell you all about it if you say yes right now. Tell me you will help Buffy save Sunnydale.” Her image flickered a few times and when she put her hand on his cheek he felt a chill so deep it scared him. Frightened him more than anything ever had.

“Get away from me! Stay away from Buffy!”

Miss Edith dissipated like mist, leaving him alone on what he thought was a deserted street. But then he caught the scent of Willow. “You okay, Red?”

“Just peachy, Yellow.” She whispered in his ear. “I let you cuff me. And I decided to stay cuffed. I can rip steel to shreds and I’m faster than you. Plus I knew what you were thinking. You reeked of rage. But you need to go home. Take care of Buffy and Dawn and Giles.” She kissed him soft but not chaste. “I’ll see you around, lover.”

She’d picked up some of the brashness and over confidence of her last meal, but he knew she’d be Willow again in about an hour, so he shrugged it off. Just as he was about to head off he caught a whiff of a bunch of small cats. Too big to be kittens but not full grown yet. She’d left him a box of the tasties. With a smile he picked up the box and shoved off toward the new house. What she meant by calling him lover, he did not understand, but he didn’t care either. He’d have to thank her for dinner though.

* * *

Buffy noticed that she perked up in the middle of the night these days. By midnight she choked on her own energy and needed to get out and burn some of it off. She’d run the perimeter of the town and wasn’t even winded. But she still felt no more real now than at any other time since waking up in the hospital. Her brain swam with too much angst to make heads or tails of anything.

Had she really been in heaven if they lied to her and told her her friends and family were okay? She couldn’t reconcile those two things because lying and heaven shouldn’t go together. But what if they lied to make sure her mind was at peace? So maybe she could reconcile them. But then her thoughts turned again. Would heaven need to lie to her to keep her happy? Wouldn’t she be happy her loved ones would get to rest too? So was it heaven? Or was it a lie altogether? Buffy had no more answers now than she had before. 

She spotted a demon in the trees and headed for the fight feigning weakness. Hook, line, and sinker, it took the bait and hit her hard enough to leave a mark for a few days. That was enough for her right now. but her punches never made contact. It hit her in the head hard enough to daze her. Another hit and she was out.

* * *

When Anya and Tara made it to a village, they cried with relief. Anya, who spoke what had to be hundreds of languages, asked the locals for food, water, and transportation to the airport. Offered them the best trade for those things, the recipe for the potion that had healed their feet overnight. 

Anya fell asleep with her head on Tara’s lap while they got driven to the airport by the only person with a truck in that village. The woman had to be in her eighties, but she drove, slow but steady over the rough roads then faster on the flawless highway. Her eyesight keen for anything that would hurt her vehicle. When they stopped, the woman took Tara’s hand. “Be safe.”

“We will.” Tara shook her companion awake. “We’re at the airport, Anya. I’ll go find out what flights we need to take to get to the Well.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” Anya watched the woman who’d driven them here put gas in the truck with a grace the belied her age. Her posture straight and proud with a regalness to it Anya hadn’t seen in at least a century. “Thank you. Have some potion I already have made.” She handed the woman the bottle before heading inside with her bag.

Tara found her first, and Anya couldn’t believe it when she said, “They had a couple cancel their trip to New Zealand! And the woman at the counter said since it was already paid for, we could get there for free. First class on one flight.”

“Karma might not always be so bitchy,” Anya said to herself. “When’s the first leg, lift off?”

“Half an hour. That’s enough time to clean up a bit before we board.” Tara’s smile lit up the entire terminal. “This has to be a sign things will work out. That we’re heading to the right place?”

“What else could it be? Airports and planes are cursed remember, so this has to be sign.” Anya felt like she’d caught Tara’s burst of enthusiasm and found a bounce in their steps as they headed for the bathroom to wash some of the grit off them. For the first time since they’d started their quest, Anya had hope for a positive outcome.


	15. Chapter 15

When Buffy regained consciousness, she couldn’t believe she wasn’t dead again. Unless dead looked like the underneath of Spike’s crypt and meant being wrapped in sheets caked in blood. Her head throbbed when she tried to sit up and forced her back to the pillow.

“You should be more careful, Slayer. Almost got yourself killed.”

“It caught me off guard.”

“Bollocks! You were ten feet from the house and you lured it over to you on purpose, let it punch you first with no attempt to block it. What are you playing at? That thing was three times your size!” He tossed his cigarette into a cobweb filled ashtray; he needed it so he didn’t kill her himself right now. Screw Tara’s no smoking rule. For all he knew she was already dead.

When Buffy did not try to deny or reply at all, he sank his fangs into her neck, assuming he could because Buffy was being kept alive through demonic energy. She didn’t even try to fight him off. Terrified more than Edith made him for that second, he pulled away from her. His expression asked all his questions for him.

And she finally replied. “I thought you’d jump at the chance to kill your third Slayer. You don’t love me. You want to own me. Conquer me. Well go ahead, don’t go all yellowbelly on me now.”

The word yellow conjured all these images of Willow chained up down here and bleeding. The coagulating pool in the alcove had the same shape. Flashes of her naked and riding him, Spike thrusting into her and calling her Buffy. “What did that bitch do to me?” The question was too loud. But a memory came back that he’d been offering to feed her like that. He’d do that for Buffy, fuck a woman he was attracted to less than he’d been to Harmony. Because Willow was as close as he had to a confidant, he hadn’t thought of her of as a potential lover since that night in her dorm. Clem didn’t even match what he’d gotten from Red. The first after Dawn to defend him, but she still called him out on his shit.

When Buffy fell trying to crawl up the ladder, he snapped out of it and scooped her up. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re not going anywhere until you’ve healed up. And I’m not letting you out of here until I know you won't try to kill yourself again.”

“Why don’t you just kill me since you can hurt me without your head splitting open?” Every other word sprayed him with spit as he lay her back on the bed. She was belly up and exposed.

“Because I could never do that to you. I only wanted to give you a scare. Make you realize you want to live. But since you don’t, we will be here for a while. Good thing Red supplied me with a couple days worth of dinner.” When she tried to get up again, he didn’t have to use any strength to hold her down. “Unless you need to use the loo, you aren’t moving.”

“Do you even have a bathroom?”

“Carved it out of that tunnel over there myself. Kept me from killing myself last year after you revoked my invitation.” Spike leaned his back on the headboard. “You know, realized after I fucked that up, I didn’t just mess up my chances with you. But I had somehow come to think of all you Scoobies as family. When you came to get me to drive the Winnebago from hell, I was two seconds away from walking into the sun. I’d lost everything I ever wanted. A family to belong to, be a part of. Dawn’s like a little sister, Xander’s the obnoxious brother that will never let me forget what a screw up I am, Giles is more a comrade in arms, but that’s no less family. And Red. She’s been there for all of us, and she never judged me. Tara got me to quit smoking like a proper mum, and Anya kept it real being so bloody honest.”

A glance at Buffy told him she was listening to every word he said. “And then the other day, when I was fighting off those Hellions with a knee busted out by Dawn, I realized something. I don’t want to kill anyone anymore. No one innocent anyway. I find fighting off hordes of demons more challenging. More fun. And I'm more needed keeping the family safe than I ever have in my existence. More needed than when I had to cure Drusilla after the mob in Prague. Or even caring for my mum when she got ill.” He sighed and shook his head. “I will always love you Buffy, but I will put this ragtag family before even you. And that means keeping you breathing no matter what you may want. No matter if it would send you back to the peaceful bliss I know you deserve. I can’t do that to Dawn, or Giles, or even Xander. And I won’t let Red’s sacrifice be for nothing. So you might as well get comfortable, ‘cause there’s only two ways you’re going to walk out that door. You either kill me or stop wanting to kill yourself.”

He pushed off the bed and rifled through the dresser looking for the spare sheets. Buffy remained silent. She seemed to taste words on her tongue and never liking the flavor they left, so she kept them to herself. Spike tossed the sheets at her. “I doubt you want to sleep in crusty demon blood, so make yourself useful and change the sheets.” He didn’t bother to wait for her to comply, he knew she would. She wasn’t so far gone as to not care about sleeping in disgusting demon blood.

Buffy watched him climb the ladder and fumed. He expected her to clean up his messes? It wasn’t her fault he tortured some demon down here. But the stiff sheets were grody, and that spot wasn’t red, so what was changing a set of sheets? But there was no way he would become her shrink.

* * *

“Have you seen Buffy?” Dawn asked Giles when he staggered in unsteady on his new leg as she drummed her fingers on the kitchen table.

“No. Didn’t she come home from patrolling last night?” He asked as he sat across from her.

“I don’t know. Her bed’s a mess, but she wasn’t here. Spike’s not here either. I'll look for her.” Dawn stood up, gave him a one-arm hug, and walked out with purpose in every movement.

The first place Dawn looked was the crypt, since she found Spike there last time, she thought it the best place to start. When she opened the door, she found Spike sitting on that creepy concrete coffin thing reading a book. “Morning, Bit.” He set his book face down on the slab. “Wanna help your sister out?”

“So you know where she is?” Dawn’s frantic question subdued into crossing her arms over her chest and glowered at him. “Are you going to tell me anything?”

“I’m hurt. Dawn when was the last time I kept anything important from you?”

“You weren’t going to tell me about Willow.”

“Only because she didn’t want me to. But right now your big sis isn’t doing so hot. She’s depressed and being a right git about it. Almost got herself killed last night, so I’m keeping her here until she feels better. I need you to get her some spare clothes, food, and her hygiene products. Can you do that?” He rubbed Dawn’s shoulder.

With a nod Dawn sucked up another threat of tears. “Can I see her?”

“Sure. She’s downstairs sulking at the moment. But she should be glad to see you, not saying she will be though.”

Dawn climbed down the ladder into the candlelit cavern below the crypt. They never had cleaned it out, so the bed and other furniture was still there. Buffy sat on the bed, back against the headboard with her knees pulled to her chest, head resting on them as she stared at the wall.

“Buffy?”

No response, so Dawn sat next to Buffy, mimicking her position. Having had some suicidal issues after Buffy jumped off the tower, Dawn didn’t want to pressure her sister to do anything, not even talk. Sometimes just having someone there helped. For Dawn it had been Willow and Spike, so she wanted to do that for Buffy, if she needed it. 

They sat there silent and moving only to change position for hours. When Buffy got up to use the bathroom, Dawn got up too. She leaned against the wall until Buffy walked back into the main room. With a hand on Buffy’s shoulder, Dawn said, “I’ve got to go. You need your stuff and something to eat. I’ll be back later, okay?”

Still no response.

When Dawn got up to the crypt proper again, she chewed her lip and didn’t leave right away. “Do you think Willow needs to eat more? Is Buffy like this because she’s not getting enough from Willow’s meals?”

“If it is, it’s not all of it. But if you drop by the Magic Box, you can let Red know your theory. She’s been staying in the loft. And let Giles know that this Edith character spent time as Drusilla’s favorite doll, Miss Edith. Said she got trapped like that. And the bitch is evil. I could feel it. There’s nothing good there.” Spike crossed over to the chair and picked at a hole in the upholstery. “Do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“If you ever see Edith, you let someone know right off. Tell us every detail. We need to crush this thing. Trust me, Edith is a thing. A bit human-looking but not human at all.”

“I can do that.” She gave him an awkward smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but you should be down there with her. Like you stayed with me. It helps.”

When Dawn left Spike, he did as requested and went to sit with Buffy.

* * *

“Xander!” Giles rubbed his forehead as the tension spread through him. When he heard Xander coming down the stairs, he got his coat.

“Need something?” Xander asked as he stepped off the last stair. 

“Dawn’s been arrested. We need to get her.” Giles stumbled and if it weren't Xander he’d have ended up on the ground again. 

“Why don’t you stay here. I’ll get her.”

“But you can’t drive my car.” 

“Let me remind you that I not only work in construction where everything’s a manual, but that you can’t drive anything right now.” Xander slipped his shoes on as he talked. “It’ll be fine. I've had nothing to drink today. Wanna be sober when Anya get’s back. Don’t worry, I’ll get Dawn.” Grabbing his coat and keys, Xander left Giles behind again.

* * *

The holding cells at the Sunnydale PD looked like they were straight out of a movie. And Dawn braided the frayed ends of the mattress waiting for Giles to secure her release. An arrest for trespassing at the Magic Box felt like an insult. If they were going to arrest her, at least make it for something she stole, or reckless endangerment or something she actually did wrong.

When someone came to release her she gave them a smug smile and hugged Xander for coming to her rescue. “Thanks, Xan.”

“Let’s get you home, Dawn.” He hugged her back and then led her out of the station and around the corner to the car. 

His hand shaking as it rested on her back worried Dawn. “Something wrong?”

“I’m not fond of the SPD. Gives me the jitters being around those idiots.” He opened her door, and she slipped into the passenger seat. 

“I drive better than you. Why sit me on the sidelines?”

“Because you don’t have a license and we’re leaving a police department.” He closed her door as she buckled up. 

Xander got in, started the car and pulled out. The ride was spent in silence, Dawn looking out the side window planning the rest of the day around needing to get Buffy everything she needed. Willow wasn’t at the Magic Box, so she could be anywhere. A locator spell was out of the question. Those couldn’t be done more than once in such a short window of time. So she contemplated the most likely places for Willow to go since she was still banned from the----

Metal crunched and glass shattered as a pole from the truck Xander slammed into impaled Dawn’s shoulder. Her scream died when she passed out. Xander broke his nose on the airbag because he hadn’t used his seatbelt, and he couldn’t see through the blood in his eyes. Trying to rub it away didn’t help, and the world swayed under him then nothing else.

* * *

“Of course we need to go to the other side of the planet.” Anya sighed as she rested her arms against the railing and looked down through the Well. “What’s faster? Going through here? Or taking a plane?”

“The Well’s mystical.” Tara sighed. “It has to be. The center of the Earth is hotter than the sun or something. So it has to be mystical.” 

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

“We don’t have much money left. If there’s more to do after talking to Osiris, we need to have funds available.” 

“Then it’s a journey to the center of the Earth, and then to the other side.” Anya slung her pack over her shoulder. “Great, more walking.”

“How much of that potion do we have left?” Tara put on her backpack.

“A bottle and a half. Let’s just pray it’s enough, not that I know who to pray to these days.” Anya grunted as her ankle twisted on an uneven board.

“You okay?” Tara asked as she supported Anya.

“Just a twinge.” Anya pulled her hair up in a messy ponytail as she got her legs back. “Lead the way, Griff.”

The keeper of this side of the Deeper Well, a mute monk named Griffin, bowed his head and led the way.

“Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, It's off to work we go.” Tara sang to keep their spirits up. 

Anya flashed teeth, “I love those dwarfs! Snow White was an idiot for picking that so called prince over the dwarfs. Dwarfs are very sensual and she could have had seven of them fawning all over her.”

Tara giggled. “I never thought about that.”


	16. Chapter 16

Willow rushed into the emergency room of Sunnydale General, dodging the areas under construction. She hit the reception desk. “Dawn? Dawn Summers?”

“And you are?”

“Willow Rosenberg, her guardian. I adopted her. Is she okay? Can I see her? Is she okay? Tell me she’s okay.” Insides an earthquake of nerves, Willow begged the Goddess for Dawn’s health, but she didn’t get through. She bit her thumbnail as the nurse made a call. 

“How did you know she was here? We haven’t even called anyone.” The receptionist rounded the desk, and guided Willow to the waiting room chairs, clipboard in her other hand.

“Doesn't matter. What happened? Is she okay?” Willow sank into the chair still pleading that Dawn be all right.

“They took her to surgery as soon as the ambulance brought her in from the accident site. Your friend Xander has a concussion, a broken nose, and a cut on his scalp that’s getting stitched up.” The receptionist sat next to Willow. “Can you give me some information about the two of them? Insurance? Basic information?”

Willow excavated her purse searching for her emergency notebook. The one with everyone’s medical information in it. When she found it, she handed it to the woman, but then couldn’t sit anymore and paced. When she caught site of the pay phone, she knew she had to call the house. 

The phone rang and rang, and when Willow thought no one was home, Giles picked up. “Hello?”

“Giles! Dawn and Xander were in an accident, car I think. You and Buffy need to get here, to the hospital here.” Her hands shook as she listened to Giles.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Buffy’s not here. Dawn was looking for her. I-I-I don’t know if she found her or not. I need to call Cheryl. I need, I’m on my way.”

After hanging the phone up, Willow turned to see every person in the waiting room approaching her, their lust clear in the way they touched themselves, licked their lips, and moaned. Her reserves depleted, she rushed out of the emergency department, and to the closest place she might find a pick me up. Spike’s crypt. She knew he was there.

The crypt door slammed against the inside wall when she rushed through it. 

“Oy! What’s going on?” Spike yelled up from his bedroom. 

Willow dropped through the hole in the floor and landed with a soft disturbance of the dirt. “I need. Spike, may I? I need to.”

“Of course. Anything for Buffy, she’s been fadin…” he got cut off by Willow sticking her tongue in his mouth. There was no Buffy in his arms, but as he removed her sunglasses, he found it didn’t matter. It was for Buffy and that was enough. He gave Willow everything, and woke up on the floor, drained and unable to stand. Buffy wasn’t in the crypt anywhere either. And no matter how much he wanted to go after her, his feet wobbled too much. Within reach was the box of cats and he got his hand on one. Once the box was empty, Spike could move again, though slow, and every move ached to the bone.

Luck had it that night had fallen while he’d been out, and he picked up Buffy’s scent and followed it to the hospital. Before he even got through the door, he smelled the blood, and being this weak, he didn’t know if he could control himself. Spike didn’t think he'd survive the headache that would result if he lost control, so he walked around the hospital to their dumpster out back, and found a nest of rats.

* * *

Buffy sat with Giles in the emergency room chairs waiting for Dawn to get out of surgery. When the doctor informed them that Xander’s alcohol withdrawal caused the accident, neither of them could even look at him. At least not until they knew Dawn would be okay. 

As the night wore on, Buffy felt every time Willow fed and it seemed to be a lot with less effect. She lost count after ten. The sight of Willow with Spike, made Buffy sick and oddly jealous of both of them. Did Willow have to have sex to feed? Was there any other way? She realized she asked no questions about what Willow was now. Was Willow’s demon why she knew Dawn had been hurt? She avoided the thought. Thinking about Dawn in surgery felt too close to the emotions Buffy had when Glory took her from that abandoned gas station only four months ago. 

“What do you know about Willow’s, um, condition?” Buffy asked trying to distract herself from having another coma. 

“Since she brought you back from the long dead, and had to restore your decaying flesh, she had to make a sacrifice.” He was careful in picking his words. Giles didn’t want to inadvertently sic Buffy on Willow. “She gave up her humanity though not her soul to be granted such a gift. She needs to kill or feed sexually as a palliative measure to keep you from decaying and dying again. She’s a succubus now. From what I understand she’s been feeding off the demon population, killing them and thinning the herd. According to my sources, the demons are afraid again. They don’t know her identity, but they know a succubus lives here and they won’t risk becoming her victims. If she kills them, she absorbs them, everything about them in one fell swoop. If they fall prey to her sexually the process is a lot slower. Immortal demons can sometimes survive for hundreds of years, but they’ll be connected to her until they perish, at her hands.” 

“What happens when I die? Does she get to be human again?” Why Buffy asked had to be wishful thinking. She knew that sacrifices like that were permanent.

“No. She’ll never be human again, but she is immortal now, and when you die, she’ll need to feed less often. That’ll be the only change.” Giles cleared his throat and rubbed his thigh above his prosthetic to try to get rid of the ache there. “She’s still your friend. I know you’re aware that she knew you may have been in heaven, but she’d vowed to take care of your loved ones. To make the decisions you would to save people and maybe the world. She had to pick between leaving you in heaven, one person’s peace, and saving the world from the constant attempts to open the Hellmouth.”

“So much has changed since I died. I don’t even recognize anyone. Willow’s a demon, Xander’s drinking himself to death, Dawn’s a gothic kleptomaniac with a foul mouth. Spike’s being as responsible as he can be. Tara and Anya are the ones risking their lives on a quest that may not even offer answers. And all the while, I was in what may have been a heaven of liars, telling me that everyone would be okay.” She threw her arms around his neck as she sobbed. “You wouldn’t be this bad off if I hadn’t jumped. But I still can’t imagine letting Dawn jump for me. I could never do that. I’m not the leader I need to be. I couldn’t make another sacrifice. Giles I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Giles held her and stroked her hair. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

Spike walked into the waiting room and saw Buffy and Giles clinging to each other so he hung back, waiting for a polite moment to interrupt. Buffy noticed him before such a moment appeared.

“Spike?” Buffy let go of Giles and waved him over. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you here. Or your scent anyway.” He sat down next to her, noticing for the first time he was without his coat. “What’s going on?”

“Xander and Dawn were in an accident.” Giles said, his tone flat.

“Was that bastard drunk?” Spike asked, getting up again.

“No. His withdrawal symptoms appear to be the cause.” Giles squeezed Buffy’s hand when he saw her wince.

Sitting back down, Spike didn’t know what to think about that. Xander’s drinking problem was still the cause, but he’d been sober behind the wheel. “How’s the Bit?”

“In surgery. They, um, won’t tell us anything.” Buffy’s worry seeped into every word. But Spike could see her skin was bright, her eyes swimming with tears still looked more alive too.

Spike stood up when Willow approached them. “Red.”

“Yellow.” She didn’t smile, but asked, “Any news on Dawn?” as she sat on the other side of the vampire.

“Not yet.” Buffy reached over Spike and squeezed Willow’s hand quickly.

The four of them sat in the waiting room, silent while other people came and went. Spike didn’t have to leave before the sun rose since the window in the waiting room still had plywood covering it. But he could feel the sun creeping over the horizon when a doctor approached them. “Are you here for Dawn?” he asked.

The four of them stood up, even Giles, while they nodded. “How, how is she?” Buffy asked as she clutched Giles’s hand.

“I’m Dr. Mccall. We’ll know more when she wakes up. She’ll live, but the crash caused more problems than the shoulder injury. Her head was jarred enough to burst an aneurysm she’s likely had for years. We performed surgery to prevent further bleeding, but we won’t know if she’s suffered any brain damage until she wakes up. The shoulder injury may cause her to have limited rotation if she doesn’t respond well to physical therapy.” Dr. Mccall allowed the four of them to absorb what he told them. “Two of you can see her at a time, but she’s unconscious, and we can’t let you stay long. We must keep the room clear should there be any unforeseen complications we need to treat.”

Buffy mumbled a thank you as they followed him to Dawn. Giles and Buffy went in first while Willow and Spike waited in the hall.

“Can she hear us?” Buffy asked the doctor.

“It’s possible. Patients commonly report having heard their loved ones talking to them while they were unconscious when they wake up.” He faded into the corner while Buffy brushed Dawn’s pale cheek.

“It shouldn’t take brain surgery for me to get to see you without all that makeup. But you’ll be fine and I’ll be telling you how much better you look without racoon eyes in no time. And you’ll whine that I’m annoying, and everything will go back to normal.” Buffy kissed Dawn’s cheek since her forehead was wrapped in bandages. 

“Her adoptive mother saved her life having her medical history written and ready. We wouldn’t have known to look for a brain bleed if we didn’t know there was a family history,” Dr. Mccall said. 

Buffy smiled crookedly. “Willow’s good with that kind of thing. Always prepared.”

He nodded at them and said, “If you need me, ask a nurse to page me,” before leaving.

“Giles, she’s going to be fine.” Buffy touched his trembling shoulder. His sobs may have been shaking his entire body, but they were silent at first.

“I’ve failed so utterly. If I had talked to her after you died, reasoned with her, shown her the love she needed, she wouldn’t have the criminal history she has and the police would’ve let her go. They rarely care about trespassing these days, and this results from my failure. I’m sorry Dawn. I’m so very sorry.” He clutched Dawn’s hand and as he touched it to his cheek, he lost his balance and Buffy had to catch him.

“Giles. This isn’t your fault. It’s Xander’s if anyone’s.” She got him seated and knelt in front of him. “It’ll be okay. Is there anything we can’t handle? We’ve dealt with death and apocalypses by the dozen. We can deal with this too. And I know she’ll be fine.”

He breathed in and nodded. “You’re right. We should let Spike and Willow in to see her now, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes, we should.”

* * *

“If you sing another note, Tara, I will rip your vocal chords out.” Anya’s entire body was soaked with sweat from heat worse than any she experienced before. And they hadn’t even reached the halfway point yet. 

“Sorry. It keeps me from b-being scared is all.”

“Then can you pick a different song? You’ve been singing the same one about sunshine for hours and I can’t take it when I’m this hot.” Anya plopped on her ass in the middle of the bridge. “I need a break.”

Griffin and Tara sat with her. “Is there a song you want to hear?”

“Are there any songs about ice?”

“You're as cold as ice. You're willing to sacrifice our love. You never take advice. Someday you'll pay the price, I know…” Tara sang as she saw Anya smirk and then smile and bob her head.


	17. Chapter 17

After stepping out for a three course meal and packing for him, Willow stood in the doorway of Xander’s hospital room. They were shipping him to rehab in an hour and she needed to see him before he left. When he opened his eyes she smiled at him, but he turned his head away from her.

“Hey. I wanted to stop by and wish you luck. I got the insurance to approve full coverage of your rehabilitation. It’s a good thing I put everyone on my work insurance when I did, huh? And I’ll send you some petty cash when I can, so you can get some little things.” She sighed when he still didn’t say anything to her. “Your luggage is with the nurse. I packed all your favorite comfy clothes. That awful robe that looks like my Elmo skin shirt puked it into existence is clean and ready for you. Spike made sure you had plenty of girly mags, and Buffy sent some music for you. Giles even found a book he thought you’d like.” She tried to hold his hand, but he pulled away and turned his entire body away from her.

She cried blue tinted tears, “I’m sorry, Xander. I’ll leave you alone, but know that I’ll be there for you if you ever need me.”

Willow walked out of his room and climbed the stairs to Dawn’s floor, wiping her tears away with her sleeve. The nurse’s glance turned into gawking as Willow passed the nurses’ station. She peeked into Dawn’s room and saw Buffy sleeping with her head in Dawn’s lap. She slipped into the room and went over Dawn’s chart to see that there’d been no change. 

She left the hospital and walked to the house. Giles told her she could move in since the reason for her not doing so before no longer existed. Everyone knew what she was and what she’d done. So she climbed the stairs in the silent house to the attic. Spike’s room was on one side and hers on the other. 

The bed in there was mostly for show, seeing as how she didn’t sleep. So she sat in the rocking chair near the window and let her mind roam. Thoughts of how she’d stolen Spike’s life broke her guilt meter. How she needed to feed more and more just to keep Buffy alive worried her. How she’d been naive enough to think Xander would stop drinking after they got Buffy back struck a painful chord. The weird sensation of having sex with a male again when she didn’t want to but couldn’t help herself. Which led to thoughts of Tara. Her heart broke remembering that she could never touch her lover ever again. Her girl. Her everything. But Tara had been in just as much danger as everyone else. What else could Willow have done to protect everyone, to protect Tara? She could’ve resurrected Buffy months sooner, but she’d been looking for any other way. But losing Riley’s team and Riley, spurred her into action.

She let the tears fall unchecked as she rocked in front of the window, the hunger rose until it forced her to prepare for another hunt. There were few evil ones left in town, but they were a pulse under her skin. 

“I should thank you.” 

“I was wondering when you’d get around to me, Edith.” Willow brushed her hair and didn’t even look at the apparition.

“How could I not come to you? If you want to save Buffy and this town, you must stay in town. Buffy needs you here. The whole of Sunnydale needs you here.”

Willow put her earrings in their holes. “Really? That’s interesting.”

“So you’ll stay then?”

“Your idea of saving this town is actually to destroy what little is left, isn't it? I'll kill off the last viable demons here by morning, and that would leave only humans as an option if I refused to leave. I won’t do that. It would start with killing the bad ones, but I wouldn’t be able to stop there, now would I? Sorry, Edith but I will be leaving soon. I'll find something powerful enough to keep Buffy here permanently.”

Edith stepped up to just behind Willow’s shoulder and looked her in the eye through the mirror. “There’s no such creature, and you need to stay. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Willow smirked before turning and snatching her hand out faster than the normal eye could see. Keeping Edith in a corporeal state hurt but Willow choked the woman, sucking her in, syphoning the energy to Buffy, but keeping all the shadows in herself. And Edith had deep shadows, so deep, but they were still no match for the combination of Willow’s magic and demon. The energy pumped into Buffy while Willow puked soot onto the carpet as she hunched over. When all of it was out of her, she waved her hand and the soot disappeared in a flash of light.

* * *

After returning from the hospital, Giles spent hours working out how to make his prosthetic leg work for him. He practiced judging distance using the methods they suggested. He rescheduled his physical therapy appointments to work around his need to visit the hospital. Three days later, and no sign of Dawn waking up, he’d gotten rid of his crutches and used a cane now. Willow bought it for him from a shop a few towns over and it had a sword hidden in it. She got him a wooden one as well should he need to go through a metal detector. But he was pleased with his progress, but more than anything he wanted to share it with Dawn. 

As Giles made a fresh pot of tea, Spike walked into the kitchen with a new box of kittens to put in the special bin they had for them. “Tell me some of those came from Cheryl.”

“Maybe a couple.” Spike tried to smirk but none of them smiled much these days. “Any news about Harris?”

“No. He’s refused to allow us updates on his condition, but Willow assures me that he’s still at the clinic. She hacked into his records there. She’s not home often enough to do much more than work. Does she need to feed that often?”

Spike leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s getting bad. I can feel her hunger and it’s constant now. It started off as just a once a night thing, and she tries to hide how much she needs and how much pain she’s in.”

Giles sipped his tea. “Let’s hope Anya and Tara return with answers soon.”

“I’m sure Willow would know if Tara were hurt or dead. So we have to assume those birds are okay and getting the job done.” Spike sat down after procuring a teacup from a cupboard. “I’ll take Buffy some clean clothes when I visit Dawn tonight. Can’t blame her for never leaving her sis’s side though.” Pointing at the pot of tea, Spike said, “Do you mind?”

“By all means. Just be warned it’s extremely low quality.”

“I just need the reminder of what I used to be right now.”

The two men sat and sipped their tea. “At least Willow took care of that Edith creature,” Giles said.

“Dru’s dolls always creeped me out if you want the truth. We dodged a bullet with that.”

* * *

Xander sat in the middle of group therapy trying to get rid of the mountainous chip he knew was on his shoulder. A chip he had no right to. He’d tried to blame everything on Buffy dying, and then not wanting to think about how they removed her from heaven. He didn’t want to be the reason for his own alcoholism. He blamed Willow, and he blamed Spike for not rescuing Dawn on that tower when he had the chance. 

Until he finally figured out that no one but Xander shouldered the blame for his addiction. He knew he had a family history, and he knew he shouldn’t even sip alcohol, but he’d chugged it. And he kept doing it until he hurt Dawn. She still hadn’t woken up, and that was on him. He may not have been drunk but he’d had the shakes for hours. The possibility of a seizure should have occurred to him. He’d seen his dad go through it, and his mom the DT’s, but he never thought he’d ever be that far gone. 

When the counselor asked him to speak he shook his head. “Xander you need to work the program if you want to continue treatment. So please, tell us something,” Anna said.

“Fine. I’m an alcoholic. My name is Xander and I’m an alcoholic. That good enough?”

“You seem angry. Can you tell us why?”

“Because I knew better, and I drank anyway. I was so angry and depressed after my best friend died that I didn’t care or think. And now Dawn might die because of a withdrawal seizure I had while I was driving her home. So yeah, I’m pissed off. I’m pissed off at myself. I did something so unforgivable, I don’t think I can live with myself. And even though I know the problem’s mine, and I’m the one to blame, I can’t help being angry at my other best friend. She just.” He bit his upper lip and flexed his hand in and out of a fist. “She let herself become something I can’t live with either. What’s that saying about going home?”

“You can never go home?” Jake, one of the other patients, offered.

“Yeah. I can’t help wondering if I’ll ever be able to go home and look at any of them again. I don’t think I can. I don’t know where I’ll go, but I can’t go back to Sunnydale.” He closed in on himself as he turned to look out the window, ignoring the rest of the group as he watched the sun set.

* * *

The center of the Earth nearly pulled Anya and Tara into pieces. Even with the mystical walls, it was painfully hot, and they had to work through gravity issues. Tara could feel her organs trying to rotate inside her while Anya was certain she’d never be able to speak again the way her lungs and throat felt like they were trading places. 

But they got through to the other side. As soon as Anya recovered and saw who the other Deeper Well Keeper was she groaned. “Tara? You okay?”

With a swallow and a few deep breaths, Tara felt better. “Yeah.”

“Don’t ask any rhetorical or superfluous questions. This is Drogen of the Battle Brand, truthsayer. He doesn’t understand that you don’t have to answer every question and he can’t lie. All this makes him get very pissy if you ask him anything.”

Tara belly laughed. “Hey, Anya, I thought you were the only truthsayer I’d ever meet.”

“Yeah, well I don’t care about answering everything with complete honesty. But Drogen here’s a stick in the mud.” She turned to Drogen. “Take us to Osiris.”

“Never thought I’d see you human, Anyanka. And I would be hesitant to assist you in any quest, but Griffin assures me your intentions are noble.”

“Bite me.”

“Anya, be nice.” Tara said as she swatted Anya’s shoulder. “Drogen, we’d appreciate it if you took us to the tomb of Osiris.”

“As you wish.” He bowed.

“Have you ever seen the Princess… nevermind. Didn’t mean to ask a question.” Tara was still smiling though.

“You, you slap happy witch will be the death of me.” Anya rolled her eyes as they followed Drogen through the maze of bridges up, hopefully to a much cooler area of the Well.

Tara laughed again.


	18. Chapter 18

“Aspirin?” Dawn muttered before she even opened her eyes. Her head hurt more than anything ever hurt before. And Buffy’s burst of laughter didn’t help. “Hey. Watch the headache.”

“Dawnie?” Willow asked as the teenager slit her eyes open a crack. 

“Hey. Aspirin though?”

“I’ll get the nurse,” Spike said and walked out the door.

Giles walked in with his cane and a cup of coffee he almost dropped when he saw Dawn’s eyes open. “Dawn, oh thank god. I’ll get the nurse.”

“That’s where Spike went,” Willow said. 

Buffy smiled at Dawn with tears in her eyes as she stroked the girl’s face. “Hey, you. You should know better than to scare me like that.”

Dawn smiled as Buffy kissed her cheek. “What happened?”

“You were in a car accident, honey. But you’re going to be fine and you should be rested enough to never need a nap ever again,” Buffy said, trying to act as normal as she could. 

Willow squeezed Dawn’s hand. It gave her a killer headache to keep her demon’s hunger in check but it was worth it. “I’ll be back in an hour, Dawnie. Don’t give the nurses too much hell, okay?”

“Promise.” Dawn yawned as Willow’s seat got taken by Giles. “How long was I asleep?”

“A little over a week.”

“And you’re caning it now. Got better without me, I see, Mr. Ruggedly Handsome Dad Figure.” She pat her hand in his direction but the movement was sluggish. “When can I get that aspirin? Evil drums are hurting the brain cells.”

Spike returned with the nurse. “I hear you’re asking for aspirin.”

“Yes, please.” Dawn said.

“The doctor will be here shortly but he told me I can give you something a bit stronger than aspirin.” She injected something into Dawn’s IV that in seconds had Dawn grinning like a madman. 

“Nice.”

“I’ll bet,” Buffy said with an eye roll. “But don’t you get too used to that.”

Dawn tried to sit up as she remembered. “Xander!”

Buffy eased Dawn back down. “He’s fine. He’s at a clinic getting the treatment he needs.”

Eyes turning into saucers, Dawn asked, “How bad was he hurt?”

Giles rubbed Dawn’s arm. “It’s not for the accident. He’s there about his drinking problem.”

“Oh. But he wasn’t drunk. I could tell. I’m glad he’s getting help though. But the accident wasn’t his fault. It was more like the brakes failed. I could tell he wasn’t drunk. Woah.” Dawn smiled again as another rush of the pain meds kicking in washed over her. “I need to lie down.”

“You are laying down, Bit.”

“Spike!” She giggled. “My Spike is here. You need to finish teaching me how to drive a motorcycle. As soon as I have feet again.”

“You’re stoned.” He smiled at her silly grin.

“Buffy?” Dawn reached out to her sister until her shoulder protested, and she settled for waving her closer. Dawn got serious as fear twisted her face. “Buffy, I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

Giles leaned back in his seat and then turned to Spike. “You should check on Willow.”

With a nod, Spike went in search of the succuwitch. 

“Willow’s getting worse, isn’t she?” Buffy asked Giles. “For how little she’s around and from what I keep feeling, she’s feeding all the time, isn’t she?”

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I don’t know how to fix things this time. We had to make a Travix to help her get to viable demon victims. I enchanted her sunglasses, so she doesn’t have to use any energy maintaining her glamour, but she’s reaching a point where she’ll no longer be able to get enough energy to maintain you.” Giles rubbed his scabbing facial cut, which replaced his tendency to clean his glasses. 

Buffy sucked in a breath. “You need a monocle. The glasses look odd now. But I agree with Dawn. You are extra rugged with the handsome these days.”

“Do you know where I could obtain a monocle to add to my new charms?”

“Sorry but you’re the research guy. I’m just the former muscle.” 

One weight lifted off Giles with how light she was and another pressed down on his heart knowing that she might not get to stay with them. “Speaking of research, do you want me to do that now, or should I keep you company for a while longer?”

“Do whichever compulsion moves you. I’ll be fine if you want to hit the books with the hammer of your brain, but it’d be nice to just be here together too.” Buffy took a sip of coffee and snorted some out her nose when Dawn mumbled, “Air conditioner excrement.”

Giles frowned though, oblivious to Buffy coughing. The colloquialism of Vonnegut’s ‘the excrement has hit the air conditioning’ didn’t amuse him this time, but rather worried him. People on drugs, dreaming, or both, were often more precognit than most realized. He pushed himself to his feet with his cane. “I think research is the order of the day. Spike should be back soon. He’ll keep you company.”

“Giles?”

“Yes.”

“I see why you guys kept him around and sorta absorbed him into the group. I think he really cares about this ragtag family, would protect us even if it killed him.” She nodded when Spike’s yellow head popped into view.

“I worry that his caring won’t be enough one day.” Giles tipped his head and then walked away while Spike slipped in without getting the Watcher’s attention.

“He’s probably right.” Spike sat down in Giles’s vacated seat. “Is it terrible for me to hate him a little for being so damn wise?”

“You’re in good company there. How’s Will?” Buffy went to sip her coffee again but thought twice and threw it away instead. 

“Red’s in Sussex at the moment, talked to her through that Star Trek communicator crystal system thing.”

“You’ve spent way too much time with Xander.” At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated, “You made a Star Trek reference.”

“Ah. I suppose I have spent too much time with the moron. He did a lot of all night television marathons that I got dragged into.” Spike kicked his feet up on the edge of Dawn’s bed. “Anyway, Red’s hanging in there, doing what she needs. Won’t last forever though. Doubt it’ll last another week, if I’m being honest, but I can’t think about losing you again.”

Buffy offered him a soft, appreciative smile, but then turned back to Dawn when she snored again.

“Heard what you said.”

“I meant it.”

The gaze they shared was filled with affection and respect. “Thank you,” he said.

“You too.” She closed her eyes as she rested her head on her arm on the edge of Dawn’s bed. Soon Buffy was asleep too.

Spike took the spare blanket and covered Buffy up. “Bloody hospital’s too cold.”

The doctor glanced in and saw his patient asleep, so he waited until she woke up again to assess her cognition.

* * *

Tara and Anya boarded the plane in England for a direct flight to Los Angeles. They were tired, and sore, and just wanted to go home. 

The plane had been in the air for an hour when Tara broke their silence. “I think it just hit me that I’m not ever going to be with Willow again. And I know why she did what she did, but I’m angry at her for it too. I still feel like she threw our relationship away.”

Anya took Tara’s hand. “She didn’t do it for Buffy if that’s what you’re worried about. She did it to save the world, but mostly she gave up any chance at a normal relationship of any kind ever again to give you a future she knew you wouldn’t have given how crappy things were getting. Look at that last attack before we left. It’s amazing we lost no one else. She’s religious for you. That kind of intensity never happens.” Anya rethought that. “Okay, I can think of three cases of it, but that includes how she feels about you. It’s not stupid obsession like Spike for Buffy, but the perfect kind of affection. The rest of us dream of having that, but you got the golden ticket.”

“You’re kinda wonderful, you know that, Anya?” Tara hugged Anya as her heart swelled. 

“I know. We need to remind my Xander.”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m happy. I’m sad about losing Willow, but I’m grateful and happy at the same time.”

Anya smiled at Tara. Not the forced bright smile she usually offered people but a soft genuine smile. Tara returned the smile as her tears ebbed.

The inflight movie came on and Anya almost sprained her eyes rolling them. “Have we had a single flight on this trip that didn’t have Multiplicity as the inflight movie? The last one had Swahili dubbed dialog. Must they subject every language to this garbage?”

Tara settled in her seat as she watched the screen while listening to Anya parody the dialogue and even lance some of the action. She had everyone not listening to headphones laughing and Tara couldn’t believe there had been a time when she thought Anya annoying, and she mentally kicked herself for not trying to get to know her sooner.


	19. Chapter 19

After tucking Dawn into her own bed at the house, Buffy walked up to the attic and knocked on Spike’s door. There was a grunt that almost sounded like come in, so she walked from the already dark hall into the pitch black room and at once tripped over something and landed on him, since he slept on a mattress on the floor. 

His grunt this time was pained and was followed by a few more as she tried to get up again. Finally she settled for sliding off to sit on the edge of the mattress. Some rumply noises and a match strike later a golden glow haloed him turning his yellow hair bright neon. She suppressed a giggle.

“I’m glad you’re amused. Need something, love?” He asked as he fell back on his pillow. 

"Got Dawn home and tucked in. Don’t know what to do now.”

“I don’t think she’s lying down anymore. I hear her strumming that guitar I got her a couple months ago. She’s butchering My Way at the moment.” He sighed. “Tara needs to suffer; the witch made me quit smoking, and it’s all I ever want to do now.”

“I like that you don’t reek like an ashtray anymore.” Buffy curled into his side, resting her head on his chest. “I want to sleep.”

“Right.” He reached over and pinched the candle out, and then wrapped an arm around her, feeling like a fool because this was better than any fantasy he’d ever had of her.

* * *

Willow sucked up an entire room of demons at one time with a heavy soul. It still wasn’t enough, but she slid into two more rooms and syphoned enough to go home and see her family for an hour with any luck.

She touched the Travix stone and appeared in the living room of the house as Giles was letting Anya and Tara in. Willow took a step toward Tara but then checked herself and waved lamely instead.

Tara waved back. “Hi, Willow.”

“How’d it go? And be quick, I don’t have much time.”

“There’s a fix, but I don’t think you’ll want to use it.”

“Why not?”

Anya pulled out the notebook they wrote the spell Osiris gave them and flipped to the right page and showed it to Willow.

“No! This can’t be right! I can’t do that!” Willow collapsed in tears on the floor after shattering a ceramic vase against the wall. And no one could touch her to comfort her without getting absorbed by her. “Why?”

Tara knelt as close to Willow as she could and ached to touch her. “To force you to understand that too much power isn’t a good thing. That there are consequences. But Osiris still wanted you to have the protection you asked for.”

Willow gasped as she convulsed with a final sob. She forced herself back to a composure where she could talk again. “I’m going to talk to Buffy.”

Giles, Anya, and Tara watched Willow walk up the stairs and out of sight. Anya turned to Giles and saw his resignation. “How long have you known how this would end?”

“I had my suspicions when Willow needed to feed more for the same results.” He limped across the room to sit on the couch and wait.

Anya sat on the loveseat while Tara sat in the overstuffed chair. Uneven guitar chords drifted down the stairs.

“Oh dear lord, Dawn’s decided to slaughter Behind Blue Eyes. Someone please go stop her. I don’t think I can handle this today.” Giles rubbed the livid red scar on his lip. 

“I’ll go,” both Tara and Anya said as they stood up. “We’ll go.”

They whispered as they ascended the stairs following Dawn’s untrained guitar playing. Tara opened the door and said, “I’ll bet Spike could teach you how to play that.”

“Tara! Anya!” Dawn shrieked and jumped up to hug them both, almost dropping her guitar. “I missed you both so much. These guys are idiots without you two!”

“We missed you too, Dawn.” Anya said as she patted Dawn’s head.

Too happy with the return of her temporarily displaced family members, Dawn didn’t even complain. “You two have to tell me everything.” She grabbed their hands and dragged them over to her bed.

* * *

Xander answered the phone only because the receptionist told him it was Anya. He took a deep breath, but that didn’t stop the mist forming in his eyes as he picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“I see you finally figured out that sex is better than booze.”

He smiled at the receiver. “I did. Kinda hard not to get the picture when my future wife is so far away.”

“I love you, too. And I miss you, but you’re staying there until you’re cured or whatever.”

“Got it. I know I made that speech last year, but then I continued to try to fit you into the cookie cutter mold of average people. While I still might ask you to not talk about our sex life in public because it embarrasses me, you can hit me if I ever try to shove you in that mold again. Beat me senseless even. I love you and I never want to be without you again.” Xander smiled as Anya told him all about her trip. He was happy that Anya and Tara not only got along but became real friends, not just ‘Scooby girlfriend friends.’ He laughed when she told him how she beat up a hamburger oracle, and that they needed to find and burn every copy of Multiplicity in existence, including the negatives. He was so happy to hear her voice. 

“You need to forgive Willow. Not for her, but for you. And before you try to deny it, you’ve always been bigoted against demons. I know it’s because you dusted Jesse, but it’s time to get over that one bad experience and allow good demons into your life and stop being a closed-minded jerk.”

“I’ll start working on that now. Is she there?”

“She is but she can’t come to the phone. But I can hand you over to Buffy, who’s got her hand out for the phone and glaring at me because I’ve taken so long with you. Here she is.”

“Xander?”

“How goes things with the Buffster?”

* * *

Willow sat in the corner of Spike’s room, not wanting to be alone but afraid that she’d accidentally kill him if she got too close. She could feel him watching her and she knew he had a slew of scathing comments; he was just waiting until they’d hurt the most to unleash them.

“Thank you, Red.”

Her head shot up. “What? I mean, for what?”

“Giving me a chance to prove that I’m not the monster I used to be to Buffy. Still a demon mind you, but no longer that monster. I owe you.”

“Well, considering one day I’m going to kill you even though I don’t want to, it sorta means you don’t owe me anything.” Willow felt too awkward to keep sitting there with him so she stood up. “I hope you aren’t in love again when it happens.”

His eyes followed her out the door, and he heard her go to her room. They would spend a few hundred years connected to each other, and all he could think was that at least he’ll go out by the hand of a friend. Not in betrayal but as a consequence for being a man, for being William, again for an hour. He wouldn’t change a thing because it turned out that William wasn’t so bad. Not that he wanted to be William again, but because he’d made peace with still carrying him inside.

* * *

Giles sat next to Buffy on the couch, with her head on his shoulder as they watched an old Fred and Ginger routine from Top Hat. The one in the gazebo Buffy claimed as her favorite movie moment of all time. It surprised him that she had that much taste buried under the layers of bubble gum, hunky Hollywood stars, and the senseless noise she usually liked. Sitting with her now, watching such a classic and it being her idea, was a secret dream he’d had for years. 

The squeals drifting down from Dawn’s room as Tara and Anya finished telling her about their trip, added that extra perfect layer to the dream. Xander would be home in a couple months, and he’d be sober. The town could heal. And he got to have this immaculate moment with his Buffy, his daughter he admitted to himself. She wasn’t like a daughter, she was his daughter. They were all his children. Except Spike, he was just an add-on that worked out for now.

“I love this part. Where they dance up and down the steps and hold their hands out to catch the rain.” She sighed as the number finished. “I can fight better than Bruce Lee, but I could never dance that in time with anyone. I never worked that well with others.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I think you work with others just fine. When they do what you want anyway.”

She laughed and elbowed him in the gut. “Hey!”

"What did you and Willow decide?"

"She's being stubborn. I know I'm right and yet she continues to argue."

Giles grasped Buffy's hand. "She made the choice to bring you back. And this is her choice as well. No one can make it for her."

Tears filled Buffy's eyes. "I know."


	20. Chapter 20

Tara and Anya stood in front of Buffy as she eyed them suspiciously until Anya broke. “What?”

“I’m so grateful to both of you for going on that quest. No offense but I would never have thought of sending you, but it turned out you two were the best ones for the job." Buffy hugged them both at the same time. 

“I'd say you're welcome, but I'm never doing that again.” Anya nodded for emphasis.

“Well I would if we needed it," Tara said.

“I can't thank you two enough. Even if the results weren't what we'd hoped for." Buffy finally let them go.

* * *

"This sucks a little less than it otherwise would have," Dawn said to Buffy as they sat on her bed waiting for Willow to go through with her decision.

“Sucking less is all we can ask for really, isn’t it?”

“How's Xander taking the news?"

“He wasn’t happy, but he knew there was no other way out of this.” Buffy squeezed Dawn’s shoulders. “But I also told him I love him, and that I believed in him, and that if he didn’t treat Anya like the rockin’ queen she is, I’d kick his ass.”

Dawn saw Willow’s skin ripple with pain in the corner. “Do you think she'll really disappear?”

“She made her decision, and she's in a lot of pain. She's just waiting for me to say goodbye to her.” Buffy sighed as she stood up.

Buffy pulled Willow to her feet, and Willow calmed down, looked Buffy in the eye and said, “I’ll miss you. Goodbye.” And she kissed Buffy until the pain disappeared. Buffy was still in her arms and their lips were still locked. Willow didn't let go because she was still there. Buffy was supposed to absorb her and live with no other need. But Willow didn't disappear or get absorbed by Buffy.

The spell was a test. Willow sacrificing herself rather than killing Buffy again let them both live. She was still a succubus, but her hunger all but disappeared. So Willow kissed Buffy the way she wanted to kiss Tara and never could. 

When they parted, Buffy smiled and said, "You kiss like Spike."

* * *

The winter passed and spring brought with it Anya and Xander’s wedding. Willow got to be the best man and all Marlene Dietrich while Tara was the Maid of Honor. Xander blew off some demon that tried to make him doubt himself because it wanted revenge on Anya. Anya called Xander her sex poodle in her vows. There was cake and dancing, punch and the Electric Slide which could never be dancing. Xander’s parents were led out in handcuffs after destroying the buffalo head in the Moosehead ballroom, screaming the whole way. D’Hoffryn left disappointed because he had no way to lure back his single most hardcore vengeance demon. And even Halfrek approved of Xander by the time the reception was over.

As Spike and Willow cleaned up afterward, he smiled at her. “Buffy seemed to have fun.”

“She juggled stuff to entertain the unruly children rather than pay much attention to the service. So yeah, she did.” Willow laughed. “My mother’s called her ‘that Bunny girl’ ever since the first time she tried juggling something other than beanbags. Buffy broke my mother’s most expensive crystal vase when she lost control of my dad’s paperweights.”

“He had more than one?”

“He collects them. Don’t ask.”

Dawn ran through with her shoulder length hair held back with something purple the emo demon boy gave her earlier. She laughed when she reached the last standing flower arrangement and screamed, “I win!”

They watched her run back to her new crush. And they shook their heads. “How you doing with Tara’s new girl Angela? Meeting her for the first time today? You looked happy enough but were you really?”

“Yes and no.” Willow tossed her bag out the window and into the dumpster outside. “I want her to be happy, so I’m happy she is, but I miss being the one to do that. Did you get a load of Giles looking dapper walking Anya down the aisle cane-free.”

“I’ll allow the subject change, but try not to make them so obvious. He’s been cane-free for a month.” Spike tossed some confetti at her and she shot him a fake glare. “It’ll take me forever to get this crap out of my hair.”

“Serves you right, you do see what you did to my hair, yes? Did you have to dump red wine on it? It's pink!"

“You were making a scene, what was I supposed to do?”

“Succuwitch.”

“Leech.” She stacked chairs. “Has Xander ever gotten around to fifth stepping you?”

“Do you ever really expect him to?” He threw his bag full of paper plates and plastic-wear out the same way Willow had. “Can’t you magic this clean? I’d feed you later to make up for it.” He winked at her.

“Sorry, bub, but I’d rather do it this way then screw you again.”

“Do it yourself. Dusk has come and gone and I want to see the first movie in the new theater. Starts in twenty minutes,” he said as he checked his pocket watch. 

“What’s playing again?”

“Some foreign film about vampires.”

“Oh, I don’t know why I thought it was some kids’ movie. You know I have to go with you.”

“Why so excited all of a sudden?”

“How many chances will I get to watch a vampire movie with a vampire?” She put up the last chair then laced her arm through his.

“I don’t know, dozens at least since I don’t see them disappearing anytime soon and we’re going to be stuck with each other for a couple centuries.”

“Hey at least we’re friends, so don’t sound so annoyed by that!”

“I’d have to say you’re my best friend, Red.”

“Back atcha, Yellow.”

Tara and Buffy watched Willow and Spike walk down the road from the new and improved Espresso Pump where they sat drinking coffee with Angela and wondered who would win the ten dollar bet. Would Anya win it when those two started screaming at each other next week? Or would Tara win when they didn’t even make it to the end of the day? Double points if Spike or Willow drew blood. They were demons after all. 

When Tara heard Spike scream in pain before they even made it to the theater, she smiled. 

“Why the smile?” Angela asked. 

“Anya’s a sore loser," Buffy said.

Angela gave Tara a questioning look but got no answer from her since Tara left to use the payphone. This left Buffy to explain the bet.

And the sound of childlike laughter echoed down the street, sending shivers down everyone's spines. Spike looked behind him. "Maybe we didn't dodge that bullet."


End file.
